, 


MEMOIRS  OF  THE 
COMTE5SE  DU  BARRY 


JEANNE    VAUBERNIER,    COMTESSE  DU  BARRY 
From  the  portrait  by  J.  J.  Caffieri, 


X* 


MEMOIRS  OF  THE 
COMTESSE  DU  BARRY 


WITH    MINUTE    DETAILS    OF    HER    ENTIRE 
CAREER  AS   FAVORITE   OF  LOUIS  XV. 


WRITTEN   BY  HERSELF 


WITH  A  SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION  BY 


ROBERT  ARNOT     M.A 


n.WALTER  DUNNE,  PUBLISHER 
NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 


COPYRIGHT,    1903. 

B  Y 

M.    WALTER    DUNNE, 

PUBLISHER 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING 
PACK 

JEANNE  VAUBERNIER,  COMTESSE  DU  BARRY       .      .      .        Frontispiece 
From  the  portrait  by  J.  J.  Caffieri,  1770. 

<{  MONSIEUR,  I  HAVE  ENEMIES   ENOUGH    AT  COURT  WITHOUT  YOU. 

WON'T  YOU  TELL  ME  How  I  CAN  WIN  YOUR  FRIENDSHIP  ?»      48 
From   David  Belasco's  play,  Du  Barry,  by  courtesy  of  Mr. 
David  Belasco  and   Mrs.  Leslie  Carter.      This  play  was 
produced  at  the  Belasco  Theatre,  New  York  City,  1902, 
with  Mrs.  Leslie  Carter  as  La  Du  Barry. 

«GET  ME  THE  LITTLE  STARS,  WITH   SILVER  STRINGS,  TO   HANG 

THEM  IN  MY  HAIR,  YOUR  MAJESTY w 104 

From  David  Belasco's  play,  Du  Barry,  by  courtesy  of  Mr. 
Belasco  and  Mrs.  Leslie  Carter.  This  play  was  produced 
at  the  Belasco  Theatre,  New  York  City,  1902,  with  Mrs, 
Leslie  Carter  as  La  Du  Barry. 

Louis  THE  FIFTEENTH 150 

From  the  portrait  by  Ferrand,  1760. 

«  PERMIT  ME,  MADAME  LA  COMTESSE,*   SAID  THE  PAPAL  NUNZIO    198 
From   David  Belasco's  play,  Du  Barry,  by  courtesy  of  Mr. 
David  Belasco  and  Mrs.  Leslie  Carter.      This  play  was 
produced  at  the  Belasco  Theatre,  New  York  City,  1902, 
with  Mrs.  Leslie  Carter  as  La  Du  Barry. 

FACSIMILE    OF    LETTER    FROM   MADAME   DU  BARRY  TO  THE  Due 

DE  BRISSAC 288 

«OH,  COSSE,  HAVE  I  HURT  YOU,  HAVE  I  HURT  YOU?W    .      .      .    344 
From  David  Belasco's  play,  Du  Barry,  by  courtesy  of  Mr. 
David   Belasco  and  Mrs.  Leslie  Carter.     This  play  was 
produced  at  the  Belasco  Theatre,  New  York  City,  1902, 
with  Mrs.  Leslie  Carter  as  La  Du  Barry. 

(vii) 


00/1  »T  CM 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

Letter  from  Lebel  —  Visit  from  Lebel — Nothing  conclusive — An- 
other visit  from  Lebel — Invitation  to  sup  with  the  king — 
Instructions  of  the  comte  Jean  to  the  comtesse i 

CHAPTER  II. 

A  slight  preface — Arrival  at  Versailles  —  La  toilette  —  Portrait 
of  the  king  —  The  due  de  Richelieu  —  The  marquis  de 
Chauvelin — The  due  de  la  Vauguyon  —  Supper  with  the 
king  —  The  first  night  — The  following  day  —  The  curios- 
ity of  comte  Jean  —  Presents  from  the  king — How  disposed 
of 9 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  king's  message  —  Letter  from  the  countess  —  A  second  sup- 
per at  Versailles — The  due  d'Ayen — A  short  account  of 
M.  de  Fleury — The  due  de  Duras — Conversation  with  the 
king — The  next  day — A  visit  from  the  due  de  Richelieu  — 
Visit  from  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon — Visit  from  comte  Jean 
— Visit  from  the  king  —  A  third  supper  —  Favor.  ....  20 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  due  d'Aiguillon  —  The  due  de  Fronsac — The  duchesse  de 
Grammont — The  meeting — Sharp  words  on  both  sides  — 
The  due  de  Choiseul  —  Mesdames  d'Aiguillon  —  Letter  from 
the  due  d'Aiguillon  —  Reply  of  madame  du  Barry  —  Mademoi- 
selle Guimard — The  prince  de  Soubise  —  Explanation — The 
Rohans — Madame  de  Marsan  —  Court  friendships 28 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  due  de  la  Vauguyon  and  the  comtesse  du  Barry — The 
marquis  de  Chauvelin  and  the  comtesse  —  M.  de  Montbar- 
rey  and  the  comtesse  —  Intrigues  —  Lebel  —  Arrival  of  the 
du  Barry  family — The  comte  d'Hargicourt — The  demoi- 
selles du  Barry  —  Marriage  of  the  comtesse  —  The  marquis 
de  Bonrepos —  Correspondences  —  The  broken  glass.  .  .  37 

(ix) 


TABLE   OF  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PAGR 

Journey  to  Choisy  —  The  comtesse  du  Barry  and  Louis  XV. — 
The  king  of  Denmark  —  The  czar  Peter — Frederick  II. — 
The  abb6  de  la  Chapelle  —  An  experiment  —  New  intrigues 
—  Secret  agents  —  The  comtesse  and  Louis  XV.  —  Of  the 
presentation  —  Letter  of  the  comtesse  to  the  due  d'Aiguil- 
lon  —  Reply  —  Prince  de  Soubise 46 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  comtesse  and  the  due  d'Aiguillon  —  M.  de  Soubise  —  Louis 
XV.  and  the  due  d'Aiguillon  —  Letter  from  the  comtesse 
to  the  king  —  Answer  of  the  king — The  «  Nouvelle s  &  fa 
Main* — The  comtesse  and  Louis  XV. — The  supper  — 
The  court  ladies  mystified  —  The  comtesse  and  M.  de 
Sartines 55 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  sieur  Ledoux — The  lettre  de  cachet — The  due  de  la  Vril- 
liere — Madame  de  Langeac — M.  de  Maupeou  —  Louis  XV. 
—  The  comte  Jean 64 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  king  of  Denmark  —  The  courtesans  of  Paris  —  The  due  de 
Choiseul  and  the  bishop  of  Orleans  —  Witty  repartees  of  the 
king  of  Denmark — His  visit  to  madame  du  Barry  —  «The 
court  of  king  Petaud,»  a  satire —  Letter  of  the  due  d'Aiguil- 
lon to  Voltaire  —  The  duchesse  de  Grammont  mystified  — 
Unpublished  letter  of  Voltaire's 70 


CHAPTER  X. 

When  is  the  presentation  to  take  place? — Conversation  on  this 
subject  with  the  king — M.  de  Maupeou  and  M.  de  la  Vau- 
guyon — Conversation  on  the  same  subject  with  the  king 
and  the  due  de  Richelieu  —  M.  de  la  Vrilliere  —  M.  Bertin 
—  Louis  XV.  and  the  comtesse  —  The  king's  promise  —  The 
fire-works,  an  anecdote  —  The  marquise  de  Castellane  —  M. 
de  Maupeou  at  the  due  de  Choiseul's  —  The  duchesse  de 
Grammont 79 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS  xi 

CHAPTER  XI. 

PAGE 

A  word  concerning  the  duchesse  de  Choiseul  —  The  apartment 
of  the  comte  de  Noailles  —  The  Noailles  —  Intrigues  for  the 
presentation — The  comte  de  Beam — M.  Morand  once  more 
— Visit  of  the  comtesse  Beam  to  the  comtesse  du  Barry  — 
Conversation  —  Interested  complaisance  —  The  king  and  the 
comtesse  du  Barry  —  Dispute  and  reconciliation 87 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  comtesse  de  Beam  —  The  supper — Louis  XV. —  Intrigues 
against  my  presentation  —  M.  de  Roquelaure  —  The  scalded 
foot  —  The  comtesse  d'Aloigny  —  The  due  d'Aiguillon  and 
madame  de  Beam  —  Anger  of  the  king's  .laughters  —  Ma- 
dame Adelaide  and  the  comtesse  du  Barry  —  Dissatisfaction 
of  the  king. 94 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Of  the  presentation  —  The  king  and  the  due  de  Richelieu  at  the 
comtesse  du  Barry's  —  M.  de  la  Vauguyon  —  Conversation 

—  Letter  of  the  duke   to  the  comtesse  du  Barry  —  Reply  — 
The  countess  unites  herself  with  the  Jesuit  party  —  Madame 
Louise  —  Madame  Sophie  —  M.  Bertin  —  Madame  de  Berch- 
eny 101 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  princesses  consent  to  the  presentation  of  madame  du  Barry 

—  Ingenious  artifice  employed    by  the  king  to  offer  a  pres- 
ent to  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon  —  Madame  du  Barry's  letter 
respecting  it — The  duke's  reply — The   king's    letter  —  The 
cotirt  in  despair — Couplets  concerning  madame  du  Barry — 
Her  presentation  —  A  change  in  public  opinion  —  An  even- 
ing party  at  the  house  of  the  countess  —  Joy  of  her  partizans 

—  Conversation  with  the  chancellor  respecting  the  lady  of 

the  marechal  de  Mirepoir. 108 

CHAPTER    XV. 

The  comte  de  la  Marche,  a  prince  of  the  blood  —  Madame  de 
Beauvoir,  his  mistress  —  Madame  du  Barry  complains  to  the 
prince  de  Soubise  of  the  princess  de  Guemenee  —  The  king 
consoles  the  countess  for  this  —  The  due  de  Choiseul  —  The 
king  speaks  to  him  of  madame  du  Barry  —  Voltaire  writes 
to  her  —  The  opinions  of  Richelieu  and  the  king  concerning 
Voltaire.  .  .  121 


xii  TABLE   OF  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

PAGE 

Unpublished  letter  of  Voltaire  to  madame  du  Barry — Reply  of 
the  countess  —  The  marechale  de  Mirepoix — Her  first  inter- 
view with  madame  du  Barry  —  Anecdote  of  the  diamonds 
of  madame  de  Mirepoix  —  The  king  pays  for  them  —  Singu- 
lar gratitude  of  the  marechale  —  The  portfolio,  and  an  un- 
published letter  of  the  marquise  de  Pompadour 134 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

Conversation  of  the  marechale  de  Mirepoix  with  the  comtesse 
da  Barry  on  court  friendship  —  Intrigues  of  madame  de 
Beam  —  Preconcerted  meeting  with  madame  de  Flaracourt 

—  Rage  of  madame  de  Bearn  —  Portrait    and   conversation 
of  madame  de  Flaracourt  with  the  comtesse  du  Barry — In- 
sult from  the  princesse  de  Guemenee — Her  banishment  — 
Explanation  of  the  king  and  the  due  de  Choiseul  relative  to 
madame  du  Barry  —  The  comtesse  d'Egmont 144 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Intrigue  of  the  comtesse  d'Egmont  with  a  shopman — His  un- 
happy fate  —  The  comtesse  du  Barry  protects  him  —  Con- 
duct of  Louis  XV.  upon  the  occasion  —  The  young  man 
quits  France  —  Madame  du  Barry's  letter  to  the  comtesse 
d'Egmont  —  Quarrel  with  the  marechal  de  Richelieu.  .  .  155 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

Madame  du  Barry  separates  from  madame  de  Beam  —  Letters 
between  these  ladies — Portrait  of  madame  de  1'Hopital  — 
The  ladder  —  The  bell  —  Conversation  with  madame  de 
Mirepoix  —  First  visit  to  Chantilly — Intrigues  to  prevent 
the  countess  from  going  thither — The  king's  displeasure 
towards  the  princesses — The  archbishop  de  Senlis.  .  .  .  167 

CHAPTER   XX. 

Unpublished  letter  of  Louis  XV.  —  Madame  du  Barry's  cousin. 
M.  de  Maupeou  —  The  comtesse  du  Barry  saves  the  life  of 
a  young  girl  seduced  by  the  arts  of  the  cure  of  her  village 

—  She  obtains  pardon  of  the  comte  and  comtesse   de    Lou- 
erne —  The   king   presents  her  with   Lucienne  —  A   second 
meeting  with  the  youthful  prophet — His  further  predictions 

—  He  is  sought  for — His  mysterious  letter  to  the  countess.     181 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS  xiii 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

PAGE 

Extraordinary  anecdote  of  Louis  XIV.  and  madame  de  Mainte- 
non  —  The  comtesse  du  Barry  at  Chantilly  —  Opinion  of  the 
king  and  comte  de  la  Marche  respecting  the  <(Iron  Mask® 

—  Madame  du  Barry  visits  madame  de  Lagarde 192 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

The  chevalier  de  la  Morliere —  Portrait   of   the  due  de  Choiseul 

—  The  due  de  Choiseul   and   the   comtesse   du   Barry  —  No 
reconciliation    effected  —  Madame    du    Barry   and    the    due 
d'Aiguillon  —  Madame  du  Barry  and  Louis  XV 205 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Dorine  —  Mademoiselle  Choin  and  the  marechal  d'Uxelles —  Zamor 

—  M.  de  Maupeou's  wig — Henriette  —  The  due  de  Villeroi 
and  Sophie  —  Letter  from  the  comtesse  du  Barry  to  the  due 
de  Villeroi  —  His    reply  —  The  countess  writes  again  —  Ma- 
dame du  Barry  and  Sophie  —  Louis  XV.  and  the  comtesse 

du  Barry aia 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  prince  des  Deux  Ponts  —  Prince  Max  —  The  dauphin  and 
Marie  Antoinette  —  The  comtesse  du  Barry  and  Bridget 
Rupert  —  The  countess  and  Genevieve  Mathon  —  Noel  — 
Fresh  amours  —  Nocturnal  adventure  —  Conclusion  of  this 
intrigue 2x3 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Madame  du  Barry  succeeds  in  alienating  Louis  XV.  from  the 
due  de  Choiseul  —  Letter  from  madame  de  Grammont — 
Louis  XV.  —  The  chancellor  and  the  countess  —  Louis  XV. 
and  the  abbe  de  la  Ville  —  The  marechale  de  Mirepoix  and 
madame  du  Barry 934 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 

Baron  d'Oigny,  general  post-master — The  king  and  the  countess 
read  the  opened  letters  —  The  disgrace  of  de  Choiseul  re- 
solved upon  —  Lettre  de  cachet  —  Anecdote  —  Spectre  of 
Philip  II.,  king  of  Spain  —  The  due  de  Choiseul  banished — 
Visits  to  Chanteloup  —  The  princesses  —  The  dauphin  and 
dauphiness  —  Candidates  for  the  ministry 343 


xiv  TABLE   OF   CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

PAGE 

The  comte  de  la  Marche  and  the  comtesse  du  Barry  —  The  coun- 
tess and  the  prince  de  Conde —  The  due  de  la  Vauguyon 
and  the  countess  —  Provisional  minister  —  Refusal  of  the 
secretaryship  of  war  —  Displeasure  of  the  king  —  The  mare- 
chale  de  Mirepoix  —  Unpublished  letter  from  Voltaire  to 
madam e  du  Barry  —  Her  reply 253 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  few  words  respecting  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  —  The  comtesse 
du  Barry  is  desirous  of  his  acquaintance  —  The  countess 
visits  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  —  His  household  furniture  — 
His  portrait  —  Thdrese  —  A  second  visit  from  madame  du 
Barry  to  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  —  The  countess  relates  her 
visit  to  the  king — Billet  from  J.  J.  Rousseau  to  madame 
du  Barry — The  two  duchesses  d'Aiguillon 362 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  king's  friends  —  The  due  de  Fronsac  —  The  due  d" Ayen's 
remark  —  Manner  of  living  at  court  —  The  marquis  de  Dreux 
—  Brez6 —  Education  of  Louis  XV.  — The  Parc-aux-Cerfs  — 
Its  household  —  Its  inmates  —  Mere  Bompart  —  Livres  ex- 
pended on  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs  —  Good  advice  —  Madame..  275 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Fete  given  by  the  comtesse  de  Valentinois  —  The  comtesse  du 
Barry  feigns  an  indisposition  —  Her  dress  —  The  due  de 
Cosse  —  The  comte  and  comtesse  de  Provence  —  Dramatic 
entertainment  —  Favart  and  Voisenon  —  A  few  observations 

—  A  pension  —  The  marechale  de  Luxembourg  —  Adventure 
of  M.  de  Bombelles  —  Copy  of  a  letter  addressed  to  him  — 
Louis  XV.  —  M.  de   Maupeou  and  madame  du  Barry.     .     .     283 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Madame  du  Barry  purchases  the  services  of  Marin  the  gazetteer 

—  Louis  XV.  and  madame  de  Rumas  —  M.  de   Rumas  and 
the    comtesse   du    Barry  —  An    intrigue  —  Denouement — A 
present  upon  the  occasion  —  The   due  de  Richelieu   in  dis- 
grace— 100,000  livres 395 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS  xv 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

PAGB 

A  prefatory  remark  —  Madame  Brillant  —  The  mar6chale  de  Lux- 
embourg's cat  —  Despair  of  the  marechale —  The  ambas- 
sador, Beaumarchais,  and  the  due  de  Chaulnes —  The 
comte  d'Aranda  —  Louis  XV.  and  his  relics — The  abbe  de 
Beauvais  —  His  sermons  —  He  is  appointed  bishop.  .  .  .  307 

CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

M.  D n  and  madame  de  Blessac — Anecdote  —  The  rendez- 
vous and  the  ball  —  The  wife  of  Gaubert  —  They  wish  to 
give  her  to  the  king  —  Intrigues  —  Their  results  —  Letter 
from  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere  to  the  countess — Reply  — 
Reconciliation 316 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Conversation  with  the  king  —  Marriage  of  the  comte  d'Artois  — 
Intrigues  —  The  place  of  lady  of  honor  —  The  marechale  de 
Mirepoix — The  comtesse  de  Forcalquier  and  madame  du 
Barry  —  The  comtesse  de  Forcalquier  and  madame  Bon- 
cault • 322 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Marriage  of  madame  Boncault — The  comte  de  Bourbon  Busset 
—  Marriage  of  comte  d'Hargicourt  —  Disgrace  of  the  comte  de 
Broglie  —  He  is  replaced  by  M.  Lemoine  —  The  king  com- 
plains of  ennui  —  Conversations  on  the  subject  —  Entry  into 
Paris 331 

CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

Visit  from  a  stranger  —  Madame  de  Pompadour  and  a  Jacobinical 
monk — Continuation  of  this  history — Deliverance  of  a  state 
prisoner — A  meeting  with  the  stranger. 339 

CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

A  conspiracy  —  A  scheme  for  poisoning  madame  du  Barry  — 
The  four  bottles  —  Letter  to  the  due  d'Aiguillon  —  Advice 
of  the  ministers  —  Opinion  of  the  physicians  —  The  chan- 
cellor and  lieutenant  of  police  —  Resolution  of  the  council.  .  347 


xvi  TABLE   OF   CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

PAGE 

Conclusion  of  this  affair  —  A  letter  from  the  incognita  —  Her  ex- 
amination—  Arrest  of  Cabert  the  Swiss  —  He  dies  in  the  Bas- 
tille of  poison  —  Madame  Lorimer  is  arrested  and  poisoned 

—  The  innocence  of  the  Jesuits  acknowledged  —  Madame  de 
Mirepoix  and  the  100,000  francs  —  Forgetfulness  on  the  part 
of  the  lieutenant  of  police  —  A  visit  from  comte  Jean  —  Ma- 
dame de  Mirepoix. 356 

CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

My  alarms  —  An  Mtve  of  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs  —  Comte  Jean  en- 
deavours to  direct  the  king's  ideas — A  supper  at  Trianon 

—  Table  talk  —  The  king  Is  seized  with   illness  —  His  con- 
versation with  me  —  The  joiner's  daughter  and  the  small- 
pox—  My  despair  —  Conduct  of  La  Martiniere  the  surgeon.     366 

CHAPTER    XL. 

La  Martinier*  causes  the  king  to  be  removed  to  Versailles  — 
The  young  prophet  appears  again  to  madame  du  Barry — 
Prediction  respecting  cardinal  de  Richelieu — The  joiner's 
daughter  requests  to  see  madame  du  Barry  —  Madame  de 
Mirepoix  and  the  50,000  francs  —  A  soirlt  in  the  salon  of 
madame  du  Barry 380 

CHAPTER    XLI. 

Interview  with  the  joiner's  daughter  —  Consultation  of  the  physi- 
cians respecting  the  king — The  small-pox  declares  itself — 
The  comte  de  Muy  —  The  princesses  —  Extreme  sensibility 
of  madame  de  Mirepoix  —  The  king  is  kept  in  ignorance  of 
his  real  condition  —  The  archbishop  of  Paris  visits  Versailles.  394 

CHAPTER  XLII. 

First  proceedings  of  the  council — The  dauphin  receives  the  prel- 
ates with  great  coolness  —  Situation  of  the  archbishop  of 
Paris — Richelieu  evades  the  project  for  confessing  the  king 
— The  friends  of  madame  du  Barry  come  forward  —  The 
English  physician — The  abbe  Terray  —  Interview  with  the 
prince  de  Soubise  —  The  prince  and  the  courtiers  —  La 
Martiniere  informs  the  king  of  France  the  true  nature  of 
his  complaint  —  Consequences  of  this  disclosure 407 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS  xvii 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 

PAGE 

Terror  of  the  king  —  A  complication  —  Filial  piety  of  the  prin- 
cesses—  Last  interview  between  madame  du  Barry  and 
Louis  XV.  —  Conversation  with  the  marechale  de  Mire- 
poix  —  The  chancellor  Maupeou  —  The  fragment  —  Comte 
Jean 420 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

The  due  d'Aiguillon  brings  an  order  for  the  immediate  depar- 
ture of  madame  du  Barry  —  The  king's  remarks  recapitu- 
lated— The  countess  holds  a  privy  council — Letter  to 
madame  de  Mirepoix  and  the  dues  de  Cosse'  and  d'Aiguil- 
lon—  Night  of  departure  —  Ruel  —  Visit  from  madame  de 
Forcalquier. ,  .  .  .  426 

CHAPTER  XLV. 

The  due  d'Aiguillon's  first  letter  —  The  marechale  de  Mirepoix 
—  A  second  letter  from  the  due  d'Aiguillon  —  Numerous 
visitors 433 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 

A  third  letter  from  the  duke  —  The  king  receives  extreme  unc- 
tion— Letter  from  madame  Victoire  to  the  dauphin  —  M. 
de  Machault  —  A  promenade  with  the  due  de  Cosse  —  Kind 
attention  from  the  prince  des  Deux  Ponts  —  A  fourth  letter 
from  the  due  d'Aiguillon  —  Comte  Jean  bids  me  farewell  — 
M.  d'Aiguillon's  fifth  letter,  containing  an  account  of  the 
death  of  Louis  XV. —The  due  de  la  Vrilliere  —  The  Lettre 
de  cachet  —  Letter  to  the  queen  —  Departure  for  the  abbey 
of  Pont  aux  Dames 436 


SPECIAL    INTRODUCTION 


Up  TO  the  time  of  the  Du  Barry  the  court  of  France 
had  been  the  stage  where  the  whole  political  and 
human  drama  of  that  country  was  enacted.  Un- 
der Louis  XV.  the  drama  had  been  transformed  into 
parades  —  parades  which  were  of  as  much  importance  to 
the  people  as  to  those  who  took  part  in  them.  The 
spectators,  hitherto  silent,  now  began  to  hiss  and  be 
moved.  The  scene  of  the  comedy  was  changed,  and  the 
play  was  continued  among  the  spectators.  The  old  the- 
atre became  an  ante-chamber  or  a  dressing-room,  and 
was  no  longer  important  except  in  connection  with  the 
Cardinal  de  Bernis  and  the  Due  de  Richelieu,  or  Madame 
de  Pompadour  and  Madame  du  Barry. 

The  monarchy  had  still  a  step  to  take  towards  its 
downfall.  It  had  already  created  the  Pare  aux  Cerfs 
(Louis  XV. 's  seraglio),  but  had  not  yet  descended  to  the. 
Parisian  house  of  prostitution.  It  made  this  descent 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  Madame  du  Barry.  Madame  du 
Barry  was  a  moral  sister  to  Manon  Lescaut,  but  instead 
of  taking  herself  off  to  Louisiana  to  repent,  she  plunged 
into  the  golden  whirlpool  at  Versailles  as  a  finish  to  her 
career.  Could  the  coaches  of  a  King  mean  more  than 
the  ordinary  carriage  of  an  abandoned  girl  ? 

Jeanne  Vaubernier  —  known  in  the  bagnios  by  the  name 
of  Mademoiselle  Lange  —  was  born  at  Vaucouleurs,  as 
was  Jeanne  d'Arc.  Better  still,  this  later  Jeanne  said 
openly  at  Versailles — dared  she  say  otherwise?  —  that 
she  was  descended  in  a  straight  line  from  the  illustrious, 
the  venerated,  the  august,  sacred,  national  maid,  Jeanne. 

(<  Why  did  Du  Barry  come  to  Paris  ? w  says  Leon  Gozlan 
in  that  account  of  the  Chateau  de  Lucienne  which, 

(xix) 


xx  SPECIAL   INTRODUCTION 

makes  a  brilliant  and  learned  chapter  in  the  history  of 
France.  <(  Does  one  ever  know  precisely  why  things  are 
done  ?  She  obeyed  the  magnet  which  attracts  to  Paris 
all  who  in  themselves  have  a  title  to  glory,  to  celebrity, 
or  to  misfortune.  Du  Barry  had  a  pretty,  provincial 
face,  bright  and  charming,  a  face  astonished  at  every- 
thing, hair  soft  and  ash -colored,  blue  eyes,  veiled  and 
half  open,  and  a  skin  fair  with  rose  tints.  She  was  a 
child  of  destiny.  Who  could  have  said,  when  she  crossed 
the  great  town  in  her  basket  cart,  which  rolled  lazily 
along  on  its  massive,  creaking  wheels,  that  some  day  she 
would  have  equipages  more  beautiful  than  any  of  those 
which  covered  her  with  mud  in  passing,  and  on  her 
arms  more  laces  and  diamonds  than  any  of  these  ladies 
attended  by  footmen  in  liveries?* 

When  Jeanne  left  the  provinces  to  come  to  Paris,  she 
found  her  native  country.  She  was  granted  the  freedom 
of  the  city,  and  expanded  in  her  joy  like  a  delicate 
plant  transplanted  into  a  hothouse.  She  found  herself 
at  home  for  the  first  time ;  and  felt  that  she  could  rule  as  a 
despot  over  all  frequenters  of  the  streets.  She  learned 
fashion  and  love  at  one  and  the  same  time.  Gourdan 
had  a  hat  made  for  her,  and,  as  a  reward,  initiated  her 
into  the  customs.  But  she  was  called  to  other  destinies. 

One  day,  when  she  was  walking  in  the  Tuileries,  a 
lunatic — and  lunatics  have  second  sight  —  asked  her 
favor  when  she  should  become  queen.  Du  Barry  said 
to  herself:  "This  man  is  mad.*  But  then  she  thought 
of  the  Pompadour,  blushed — it  was  the  only  time — and 
turned  her  eyes  towards  Versailles. 

But  Versailles  was  an  unhoped-for  shore  to  such  a 
girl  as  this,  a  girl  known  to  all  Paris.  Would  the  King 
care  to  be  the  lover  of  one  who  had  ruled  all  his  courte- 
sans ?  Who  could  say  ?  The  King  often  wearied  of  what 
he  had.  Had  not  a  poet  already  been  found  who  com- 
pared her  to  Venus: 

O  Jeanne,  thy  beauty  seduces 
And  charms  the  whole  world; 
In  vain  does  the  duchess  redden 
And  the  princess  growl; 


SPECIAL   INTRODUCTION  xxi 

They  know  that  Venus  rides  proudly 
The  foam  of  the  wave. 


The  poet,  while  not  Voltaire,  was  no  less  a  man  than 
Boufflers. 

While  the  King  was  seeking  a  mistress  —  a  nocturnal 
reverse  of  Diogenes,  fleeing  from  the  lanterns  of  the 
wise — he  found  Jeanne  Vaubernier.  He  thought  he  could 
love  her  for  one  evening.  "Not  enough,*  said  she,  "you 
must  love  me  until  broad  daylight."  So  he  loved  her 
for  a  whole  day.  What  should  one  eat  in  order  to  be 
loved  by  royalty  ?  Was  it  necessary  to  have  a  coat  of 
arms  ?  She  had  them  in  number,  because  she  had  been 
loved  by  all  the  great  names  in  the  book  of  heraldry. 
And  so  she  begged  the  Viscount  Jean  du  Barry  to  give 
her  the  title  of  viscountess.  "Better  still,*  exclaimed 
Jean,  "  I  will  give  you  the  title  of  countess.  My  brother 
will  marry  you;  he  is  a  male  scamp,  and  you  are  the 
female.  What  a  beautiful  marriage !  * 

So  they  were  united.  The  newly  made  countess  was 
solemnly  presented  at  court  by  a  countess  of  ancient 
date,  namely,  the  Countess  de  Beam.  King  Voltaire 
protested,  in  a  satire  entitled  "  The  Court  of  King 
Petaud*  (topsy-turvy),  afterwards  denying  it.  The  Due 
de  Choiseul  protested,  France  protested,  but  all  Versailles 
threw  itself  passionately  at  the  feet  of  the  new  countess. 
Even  the  daughters  of  the  King  paid  her  court,  and 
allowed  her  to  call  them  by  their  pet  names:  Loque, 
Chiffe,  and  Graille.  The  King,  jealous  of  this  gracious 
familiarity,  wished  her  to  call  him  by  some  pet  name, 
and  so  the  Bacchante,  who  believed  that  through  the 
King  she  held  all  France  in  her  hand,  called  him  *  La 
France,*  making  him  a  wife  to  his  Gray  Musketeers. 

Oh,  that  happy  time!  Du  Barry  and  Louis  XV.  hid 
their  life  —  like  the  sage  —  in  their  little  apartments.  She 
honeyed  his  chocolate,  and  he  himself  made  her  coffee. 
Royalty  consecrated  a  new  verb  for  the  dictionary  of 
the  Academy,  and  Madame  du  Barry  said  to  the  King: 
*  At  home,  I  can  love  you  to  madness.  *  The  King  gave 
the  castle  of  Lucienne  to  his  mistress  in  order  to  be 


xxii  SPECIAL   INTRODUCTION 

able  to  sing  the  same  song.  Truly  the  Romeo  and  Juliet 
de  la  main  gauche. 

Du  Barry  threw  out  her  fish-wifely  epithets  with  inef- 
fable tenderness.  She  only  opened  her  eyes  half  way, 
even  when  she  took  him  by  the  throat.  The  King  was 
enchanted  by  these  humors.  It  was  a  new  world.  But 
someone  said  to  him :  <(  Ah !  Sire,  it  is  easy  to  see  that 
your  Majesty  has  never  been  at  the  house  of  Gourdan.w 

Yet  Du  Barry  was  adored  by  poets  and  artists.  She 
extended  both  hands  to  them.  Jeanne's  beauty  had  a 
penetrating,  singular  charm.  At  once  she  was  blonde 
and  brunette  —  black  eyebrows  and  lashes  with  blue  eyes, 
rebellious  light  hair  with  darker  shadows,  cheeks  of  ideal 
contour,  whose  pale  rose  tints  were  often  heightened 
by  two  or  three  touches  —  a  lie  <(  formed  by  the  hand 
of  Love,w  as  anthology  puts  it — a  nose  with  expressive 
nostrils,  an  air  of  childlike  candour,  and  a  look  seductive 
to  intoxication.  A  bold  yet  shrinking  Venus,  a  Hebe 
yet  a  Bacchante.  With  much  grace  Voltaire  says: 

*  MADAME: 

«M.  de  la  Borde  tells  me  that  you  have  ordered  him  to  kiss  me 
on  both  cheeks  for  you: 

«  That!    Two  kisses  at  life's  end 
What  a  passport  to  send  me! 
Two  is  one  too  much,  Adorable  Nymph; 
I  should  die  of  pleasure  at  the  first 

He  showed  me  your  portrait,  and  be  not  offended,  Madame,  when  I 
tell  you  that  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  giving  that  the  two  kisses.* 

Perhaps  Voltaire  would  not  have  written  this  letter,  had 
he  not  read  the  one  written  by  the  King  to  the  Due  de 
Choiseul,  who  refused  to  pay  court  to  the  left-hand  queen : 

<(Mv  COUSIN, 

(<The  discontent  which  your  acts  cause  me  forces  me  to  exile  you 
to  Chanteloup,  where  you  will  take  yourself  within  twenty-four  hours. 
I  would  have  sent  you  farther  away  were  it  not  for  the  particular 
esteem  in  which  I  hold  Madame  de  Choiseul.  With  this,  I  pray 
God,  my  cousin,  to  take  you  into  His  safe  and  holy  protection. 

«  Louis. » 

This  exile  was  the  only  crime  of  the  courtesan.  On  none 
of  her  enemies  did  she  close  the  gates  of  the  Bastille,  And 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

more  than  once  did  she  place  a  pen  in  the  hands  of  Louis 
XV.  with  which  to  sign  a  pardon.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
she  was  ironic  in  her  compassion. 

(<  Madame, }>  said  M.  de  Sartines  to  her  one  day,  *  I  have 
discovered  a  rogue  who  is  scattering  songs  about  you; 
what  is  to  be  done  with  him  ?  M 

"Sentence  him  to  sing  them  for  a  livelihood.* 

But  she  afterwards  made  the  mistake  of  pensioning 
Chevalier  de  Morande  to  buy  silence. 

The  pleasures  of  the  King  and  his  favorite  were  troubled 
only  by  the  fortune-tellers.  Neither  the  King  nor  the 
countess  believed  in  the  predictions  of  the  philosophers, 
but  they  did  believe  in  divination.  One  day,  returning 
from  Choisy,  Louis  XV.  found  under  a  cushion  of  his 
coach  a  slip  of  paper  on  which  was  transcribed  this  pre- 
diction of  the  monk  Aimonius,  the  savant  who  could  read 
all  things  from  the  vast  book  of  the  stars: 

«As  soon  as  Childeric  had  returned  from 
Thuringia,  he  was  crowned  King  of  France 
And  no  sooner  was  he  King  than  he  espoused 
Basine,  wife  of  the  King  of  Thuringia. 
She  came  herself  to  find  Childeric.     The 
first  night  of  the  marriage,  and  before  the  King 
had  retired,  the  queen  begged  Childeric  to  look 
from  one  of  the  palace  windows  which  opened  on  a 
park,  and  tell  what  he  saw  there.     Childeric 
looked  out  and,  much  terrified,  reported  to  the 
princess  that  he  had  seen  tigers  and  lions. 
Basine  sent  him  a  second  time  to  look  out. 
This  time  the  prince  only  saw  bears  and  wolves, 
and  the  third  time  he  perceived  only  cats  and  dogs, 
fighting  and  combating  each  other.     Then  Basine 
said  to  him:     I  will  give  you  an  explanation  of  what 
you  have  seen:     The  first  figure  shows  you  your 
successors,  who  will  excel  you  in  courage  and  power; 
the  second  represents  another  race  which  will  be 
illustrious  for  their  conquests,  and  which  will  augment 
your  kingdom  for  many  centuries;  but  the  third  denotes 
the  end  of  your  kingdom,  which  will  be  given  over  to  pleasures 
and  will  lose  to  you  the  friendship  of  your  subjects; 
and  this  because  the  little  animals  signify  a  people  who, 
emancipated  from  fear  of  princes,  will  massacre  them  and  then 
make  war  upon  each  other.8 


xxiv  SPECIAL   INTRODUCTION 

Louis  read  the  prediction  and  passed  the  paper  to 
the  Countess :  w  After  us  the  end  of  the  world,  *  said  she 
gaily.  The  King  laughed,  but  the  Abbe"  de  Beauvais 
celebrated  high  mass  at  Versailles  after  the  carnival  of 
1774,  and  dared  to  say,  in  righteous  anger:  *This 
carnival  is  the  last;  yet  forty  days  and  Nineveh  shall 
perish.  *  Louis  turned  pale.  w  Is  it  God  who  speaks 
thus  ?  "  murmured  he,  raising  his  eyes  to  the  altar.  The 
next  day  he  went  to  the  hunt  in  grand  style,  but  from  that 
evening  he  was  afraid  of  solitude  and  silence :  a  It  is  like 
the  tomb;  I  do  not  wish  to  put  myself  in  such  a  place,* 
said  he  to  Madame  du  Barry.  The  Due  de  Richelieu 
tried  to  divert  him.  (<  No, w  said  he  suddenly,  as  if  the 
Trappist's  denunciation  had  again  recurred  to  him,  <(  I  shall 
be  at  ease  only  when  these  forty  days  have  passed."  He 
died  on  the  fortieth  day. 

Du  Barry  believed  neither  in  God  nor  in  the  devil,  but 
she  believed  in  the  almanac  of  Liege.  She  scarcely  read 
any  book  but  this  —  faithful  to  her  earliest  habits.  And  the 
almanac  of  Liege,  in  its  prediction  for  April,  1774,  said: 
*A  woman,  the  greatest  of  favorites,  will  play  her  last 
role.*  So  Madame  the  Countess  du  Barry  said  without 
ceasing :  <(  I  shall  not  be  tranquil  until  these  forty  days 
have  passed."  The  thirty- seventh  day  the  King  went  to 
the  hunt  attended  with  all  the  respect  due  to  his  rank. 
Jeanne  wept  in  silence  and  prayed  to  God  as  one  who  has 
long  neglected  her  prayers. 

Louis  XV.  had  not  neglected  his  prayers,  and  gave 
two  hundred  thousand  livres  to  the  poor,  besides  ordering 
masses  at  St.  Genevieve.  Parliament  opened  the  shrine, 
and  knelt  gravely  before  that  miraculous  relic.  The  least 
serious  of  all  these  good  worshippers  was,  strange  to  say, 
the  curate  of  St.  Genevieve :  (<  Ah,  well !  *  said  he  gaily, 
when  Louis  was  dead,  (<  let  us  continue  to  talk  of  the 
miracles  of  St.  Genevieve.  Of  what  can  you  complain  ? 
Is  not  the  King  dead  ?  * 

At  the  last  moment  it  was  not  God  who  held  the  heart 
of  Louis  —  it  was  his  mistress.  *  Ask  the  Countess  to 
come  here  again,"  he  said. 

*  Sire,  you  know  that  she  has  gone  away, "  they  answered. 


SPECIAL   INTRODUCTION  xxv 

"  Ah  1  has  she  gone  ?  Then  I  must  go ! }>  So  he  de- 
parted 

His  end  drew  forth  some  maledictions.  There  were 
insults  even  at  his  funeral  services.  <(  Nevertheless," 
said  one  old  soldier,  <(he  was  at  the  battle  of  Fontenoy.* 
That  was  the  most  eloquent  funeral  oration  of  Louis  XV. 

*  The  King  is  dead,   long  live  the  King ! w     But  before 
the  death  of  Louis  XVI.  they  cried:  "The  king  is  dead, 
long  live  the  Republic !  " 

Rose-colored  mourning  was  worn  in  the  good  city  of 
Paris.  The  funeral  oration  of  the  King  and  a  lament  for 
his  mistress  were  pronounced  by  Sophie  Arnould,  of 
which  masterpiece  of  sacred  eloquence  the  last  words 
only  are  preserved :  w  Behold  us  orphaned  both  of  father 
and  mother.* 

If  Madame  du  Barry  was  one  of  the  seven  plagues  of 
royalty,  she  died  faithful  to  royalty.  After  her  exile 
to  Pont  aux  Dames  she  returned  to  Lucienne,  where  the 
Due  de  Coss6  Brissac  consoled  her  for  the  death  of 
Louis  XV.  But  what  she  loved  in  Louis  was  that  he 
was  a  King;  her  true  country  was  Versailles;  her  true 
light  was  the  sun  of  court  life.  Like  Montespan,  also 
a  courtesan  of  high  order,  she  often  went  in  these  dark 
days  to  cast  a  loving  look  upon  the  solitary  park  in  the 
maze  of  the  Trianon.  Yet  she  was  particularly  happy 
at  Lucienne. 

I  have  compared  her  to  Manon  Lescaut,  and  I  believe 
her  to  have  been  also  a  sister  to  Ganesin.  All  three 
were  destroyed  by  passion. 

One  day  she  found  herself  still  young  at  Lucienne, 
although  her  sun  was  setting.  She  loved  the  Due  de 
Brissac,  and  how  many  pages  of  her  past  romance  would 
she  that  day  have  liked  to  erase  and  forget! 

(<  Why  do  you  weep,   Countess  ?  *  asked  her  lover. 

*  My  friend,  *  she   responded,    *  I  weep  because   I  love 
you,  shall  I  say  it  ?     I  weep  because  I  am  happy.  * 

She  was  right;  happiness  is  a  festival  that  should  know 
no  to-morrow.  But  on  the  morrow  of  her  happiness,  the 
Revolution  knocked  at  the  castle  gate  of  Lucienne. 

ft  Who  goes  there  ?  » 


xxvi  SPECIAL   INTRODUCTION 

(<  I  am  Justice;  prepare  for  destiny.* 

The  Queen,  the  true  queen,  had  been  good  to  her  as 
to  everybody.  Marie  Antoinette  remembered  that  the 
favorite  had  not  been  wicked.  The  debts  of  Du  Barry 
were  paid  and  money  enough  was  given  to  her  so  that 
she  could  still  give  with  both  hands.  Lucienne  became 
an  echo  of  Versailles.  Foreign  kings  and  Parisian  philos- 
ophers came  to  chat  in  its  portals.  Minerva  visited  shame- 
less Venus.  But  wisdom  took  not  root  at  Lucienne. 

For  the  Revolution,  alas !  had  to  cut  off  this  charming 
head,  which  was  at  one  time  the  ideal  of  beauty  —  of 
court  beauty.  Madame  du  Barry  gave  hospitality  to  the 
wounded  at  the  arrest  of  the  queen.  <(  These  wounded 
youths  have  no  other  regret  than  that  they  have  not 
died  for  a  princess  so  worthy  as  your  Majesty, w  she  said. 
*  What  I  have  done  for  these  brave  men  is  only  what  they 
have  merited.  I  consoled  them,  and  I  respect  their 
wounds  when  I  think,  Madame,  that  without  their  de- 
votion, your  Majesty  would  no  longer  be  alive.  Lucienne 
is  yours,  Madame,  for  was  it  not  your  beneficence  which 
gave  it  to  me  ?  All  I  possess  has  come  to  me  through 
the  royal  family.  I  have  too  much  loyalty  to  forget  it.  * 

But  negro  Zamor  became  a  citizen  like  Mirabeau.  It 
was  Zamor  who  took  to  Du  Barry  her  lover's  head.  It  was 
Zamor  who  denounced  her  at  the  club  of  the  Jacobins. 
<(The  fealty  (faith)  of  the  black  man  is  white,*  said  the 
negro.  But  he  learned  how  to  make  it  red.  Jeanne  was 
imprisoned  and  tried  before  Dumas. 

«Your  age?» 

<(  Forty- two  years."  She  was  really  forty-seven.  Co- 
quetry even  at  the  guillotine. 

The  public  accuser,  Fouquier  Tinville,  was  not  disarmed 
by  the  sweet  voluptuousness  still  possessed  by  this  pale 
and  already  fading  beauty.  He  accused  her  of  treason 
against  the  nation.  Could  the  defender  of  Du  Barry,  who 
had  also  defended  Marie  Antoinette,  find  an  eloquent  word  ? 
No;  Fouquier  Tinville  was  more  eloquent  than  Chauveau- 
Lagarde.  So  the  mistress  of  Louis  was  condemned.  It 
was  eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening — the  hour  for  supper  at 
Versailles  when  she  was  queen ! 


SPECIAL   INTRODUCTION  xxvii 

She  passed  the  night  in  prayer  and  weeping,  or  rather  in 
a  frenzy  of  fright.  In  the  morning  she  said  it  was  <(  too 
early  to  die* ;  she  wished  to  have  a  little  time  in  order 
to  make  some  disclosures.  The  Comite*  sent  someone 
to  listen  to  her.  What  did  she  say  ?  She  revealed  all 
that  was  hidden  away  at  Lucienne ;  she  gave  word  by  word 
an  inventory  of  the  treasures  she  had  concealed,  forgetting 
nothing,  for  did  not  each  word  give  her  a  second  of  time  ? 

<(Have  you  finished?*  said  the  inquisitor.  "No,*  said 
Jeanne.  w  I  have  not  mentioned  a  silver  syringe  concealed 
under  the  staircase !  * 

Meanwhile  the  horses  of  destiny  stamped  with  im- 
patience, and  spectators  were  knocking  at  the  prison  gate. 
When  they  put  her,  already  half  dead,  on  the  little  cart, 
she  bent  her  head  and  grew  pale.  The  Du  Barry  was 
alone  —  a  sinner  without  redemption. 

She  saw  the  people  in  the  square  of  Louis  XV. ;  she 
struck  her  breast  three  times  and  murmured:  (<  It  is  my 
fault !  *  But  this  Christian  resignation  abandoned  her 
when  she  mounted  the  scaffold  —  there  where  the  statue  of 
Louis  XV.  had  been — and  she  implored  of  the  executioner: 
(<  One  moment,  Mr.  Executioner !  One  moment  more !  * 

But  the  executioner  was  pitiless  Sanson.  It  was  the 
block  and  the  knife  —  without  the  w  one  moment !  " 

Such  was  the  last  bed  of  the  Du  Barry.  Had  the  almanac 
of  Liege  only  predicted  to  her  that  the  one  who  would  lead 
her  to  her  bed  for  the  last  time  would  not  be  a  King  but 
a  citizen  executioner,  it  might  have  been  —  but  why 
moralize  ? 


To  THE  READER 

As  the  early  part  of  Madame  du  Barry's  career  had 
little  to  differentiate  it  from  the  life  of  an  ordinary 
courtesan,  the  editor  has  deemed  it  best  to  confine  the 
memoirs  to  the  years  in  her  life  which  helped  to  make 
hittory. 

—  EDITOR. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Letter  from  Lebel  —  Visit  from  Lebel — Nothing  conclusive — Another 
visit  from  Lebei  —  Invitation  to  sup  with  the  king" — Instructions  of 
the  comte  Jean  to  the  comtesse. 

ONE  morning  comte   Jean  entered  my   apartment,  his 
face  beaming  with  delight. 

(<  Read, *  said  he,  giving  me  a  letter,  <(  read,  Jean- 
nette:  victory  is  ours.  News  from  Morand.  Lebel  is 
coming  to  Paris,  and  will  dine  with  us.  Are  we  alone  ? * 

(<  No,  there  are  two  of  your  countrymen  whom  you  in- 
vited yesterday. * 

(<  I  will  write  and  put  them  off.  Morand  alone  must 
dine  with  Lebel;  he  ought  to  have  a  place  at  the  feast 
which  he  furnishes  with  such  good  music.  Come,  my 
dear  girl,  we  touch  the  moment  of  importance,  it  is  in 
your  beauty  and  power  of  pleasing  that  I  place  all  my 
hopes.  I  think  I  may  rely  on  you;  but,  above  all,  do 
not  forget  that  you  are  my  sister-in-law.* 

"Brother-in-law,*  said  I,  laughing,  "it  is  not  unneces- 
sary that  I  should  know  decidedly  to  which  of  your 
family  I  am  married  ?  The  custom  in  France  is  not  that 
a  woman  be  the  undivided  property  of  three  brothers.* 

"That  only  happens  in  Venice,*  replied  the  comte; 
(<my  brother  Elie  is  too  young,  you  must  be  the  wife  of 
Guillaume,  my  second  brother.* 

(<Very  well;  I  am  the  comtesse  Guillaume  du  Barry; 
that  does  famously  well;  we  like  to  know  whom  we  are 
married  to.* 

After  this  conversation,  comte  Jean  insisted  on  pre- 
siding at  my  toilette.  He  acquitted  himself  of  the  task, 
with  a  most  laughable  attention.  During  two  good  hours, 
at  least,  he  tormented  first  Henriette,  and  then  the 


2  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

female  hairdresser,  for  I  had  not  yet  followed  the  mode, 
which  began  to  be  very  general,  of  having  my  hair 
dressed  by  a  man.  Comte  Jean  passed  alternately  from 
my  dressing-room  to  the  kitchen.  He  knew  Lebel  was  a 
gallant  and  a  gourmand,  and  he  was  anxious  to  please 
him  in  all  senses  at  once. 

At  one  o'clock  I  was  under  arms,  and  prepared  to  re- 
ceive him  on  whom  my  destiny  depended.  As  soon  as  I 
reached  the  drawing-room,  comte  Jean  compelled  me  to 
submit  to  the  test  of  a  rigid  examination.  His  serious 
air  amused  me  much  as  he  gazed  at  me  some  time  in 
solemn  silence.  At  length  his  forehead  relaxed,  a  smile 
of  satisfaction  played  on  his  lips,  and  extending  his  arms 
to  me,  without  venturing  to  touch  me,  (<  You  are  charm- 
ing, divine,"  he  said;  "Lebel  ought  to  go  and  hang  him- 
self if  he  does  not  fall  down  at  your  knees.8 

Soon  afterwards  the  folding-doors  were  hastily  opened, 
and  a  servant  announced  M.  Lebel,  premier  de  sa  Majeste", 
with  M.  Morand.  The  comte  went  to  meet  the  arrivals, 
and  as  I  now  saw  Lebel  for  the  first  time,  he  presented 
him  to  me  formally. 

(<  Sister,  this  is  M.  Lebel,  premier  de  sa  Majeste",  who 
has  done  us  the  honor  to  come  and  dine  with  us.* 

(<And  he  confers  a  real  pleasure  on  us,"  said  I,  look- 
ing smilingly  on  M.  Lebel.  My  look  had  its  effect,  for 
Lebel  remained  mute  and  motionless  from  admiration  at 
my  person.  At  length  he  stammered  out  a  few  incoher- 
ent words,  which  I  imagined  to  be  compliments.  The 
comte  watched  Lebel  anxiously,  and  Morand  began  to  rub 
his  hands,  saying: 

<(  Well,  sir,  what  think  you  of  our  celestial  beauty  ?  * 

w  She  is  worthy  of  a  throne, "  replied  Lebel,  bending 
his  head  before  me,  and  taking  my  hand,  which  he 
pressed  respectfully  to  his  lips.  This  reply  was,  perhaps, 
inadvertently  made,  but  I  took  it  as  a  good  augury. 
*  Yes, "  added  Lebel,  *  you  are  the  most  lovely  creature  I 
ever  met,  though  no  one  is  more  in  the  habit  of  seeing 
handsome  females  than  myself.® 

"And  of  causing  them  to  be  seen  by  others,*  replied 
comte  Jean. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  3 

This  was  an  opening  which  was  not  followed  up  by 
Lebel.  His  first  enthusiasm  having  passed,  he  measured 
me  from  head  to  foot,  as  if  he  would  take  an  accurate 
description  of  my  person. 

For  my  part  I  began  to  support  the  looks  of  Lebel 
with  more  assurance.  He  was  a  man  of  no  particular 
(<mark  or  likelihood, w  but  had  made  his  way.  Living  at 
Versailles  had  given  him  a  certain  air  of  easy  imperti- 
nence, but  you  could  not  discover  anything  distinguished 
in  his  manners,  nothing  which  concealed  his  humble  ex- 
traction. The  direction  of  the  Pare  aux  Cerfs  gave  him 
much  influence  with  the  king,  who  found  the  convenience 
of  such  a  man,  who  was  willing  to  take  upon  himself  all 
the  disagreeable  part  of  his  clandestine  amours.  His  duties 
placed  him  in  contact  with  the  ministers,  the  lieutenant 
of  police,  and  the  comptroller-general.  The  highest  no- 
bility sought  his  friendship  with  avidity.  They  all  had  a 
wife,  a  sister,  a  daughter,  whom  they  wished  to  make  the 
favorite  sultana;  and  for  this  it  was  necessary  to  get  the 
ear  of  Lebel.  Thus,  under  a  libertine  prince,  the  desti- 
nies of  France  were  at  the  mercy  of  a  valet  de  chambre. 

I  should  tell  you,  however,  that  I  never  had  occasion 
but  to  speak  well  of  him,  and  that  I  have  the  utmost 
gratitude  for  all  he  did  for  me.  The  attachment  he  tes- 
tified on  our  first  meeting  has  never  been  altered.  He 
gave  me  his  protection  as  far  as  it  was  necessary  for  me, 
and  when  the  favor  of  the  king  had  accorded  to  me  a 
station,  whence  all  the  court  sought  to  hurl  me,  Lebel 
seconded  me  with  all  his  power  in  my  efforts  to  preserve 
it.  I  will  say,  that  it  is  to  his  vigilance  that  I  owe  the 
overthrow  of  more  than  one  conspiracy  against  me.  He 
was  a  warm  and  sincere  friend,  and  not  at  all  interested 
in  the  services  he  rendered.  He  did  a  great  deal  of 
good,  as  well  as  harm,  in  private.  I  know  poor  families 
whom  he  has  assisted  with  his  own  #urse,  when  he  could 
obtain  nothing  for  them  from  the  king,  for  Louis  was 
only  prodigal  in  his  pleasures. 

However,  we  dined,  and  Lebel  praised  me  inces- 
santly to  the  very  skies,  and  that  with  so  much  warmth, 
that  I  was  fearful  at  one  time  he  would  fall  in  love  with 


4  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

me  himself,  and  would  not  resign  me  to  another.  Thank 
heaven,  Lebel  was  a  faithful  servant. 

After  dinner,  when  we  left  the  table,  Lebel  paid  me 
some  compliments ;  then  pulling  out  his  watch,  he  spoke  of 
an  appointment  at  the  Marais,  and  left  without  saying  a 
word  of  seeing  us  again. 

At  this  abrupt  departure,  comte  Jean  and  I  looked  at 
each  other  with  astonishment.  As  for  Morand,  he  was 
overjoyed. 

<(Well,  comtesse,*  said  he,  (<  behold  the  number  of 
your  slaves  increased  by  an  illustrious  adorer.  You  have 
made  a  conquest  of  M.  Lebel,  and  I  am  certain  he  has 
gone  away  deeply  smitten.* 

(<  I  hope  we  shall  see  him  again,*  said  comte  Jean. 

«Do  you  doubt  it?* 

<(  Assure  him,*  said  I,  <(of  the  pleasure  it  will  afford 
us  to  receive  him  as  he  merits.* 

Several  persons  entered,  and  M.  Morand,  profiting  by 
the  bustle  which  their  entrance  occasioned,  approached 
me,  and  said,  in  a  low  tone, 

(<  You  are  in  possession  of  his  heart,  will  you  charge 
me  with  any  message  to  him?* 

<(  M.  Morand,*  was  my  reply,  (<  what  are  you  thinking 
of  ?  A  woman  of  my  rank  throw  herself  at  any  person's 
head  ? » 

<(  No,  certainly  not ;  but  you  can  send  him  a  kind 
word,  or  some  affectionate  token.* 

<(  I  could  not  think  of  it ;  M.  Lebel  appeared  to  me  a 
most  agreeable  man,  and  I  shall  be  at  all  times  delighted 
to  see  him.* 

Morand  asked  nothing  more  than  this,  and  there  our 
conversation  ended. 

Two  days  elapsed  without  being  marked  by  any  event. 
Comte  Jean  had  spent  them  with  much  anxiety.  He  was 
absent,  when,  on  the  third  morning,  Henriette  came 
hastily  into  my  room.  (<  Madame,*  she  said,  (cthe  valet 
de  chambre  of  the  king  is  in  the  drawing-room,  and  in- 
quires if  you  will  receive  him.* 

At  this  news  I  was  surprised  and  vexed.  M.  Lebel 
took  me  unawares;  my  toilette  was  not  begun.  I  gave  a 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  5 

hasty  glance  at  my  mirror,  (<  Let  M.  Lebel  come  in  * ; 
and  M.  Lebel,  who  was  on  the  heels  of  my  maid,  entered 
instantly.  After  having  saluted  me,  he  said, 

*  It  is  only  you,   Madame,   whom  one  might  thus  sur- 
prise.    Your  beauty  needs  no  ornament,  your  charms  are 
decoration  sufficient.0 

I  replied  to  this  compliment  with  (of  course)  much 
modesty,  according  to  custom.  We  entered  into  conversa- 
tion, and  I  found  that  Lebel  really  thought  me  the  sister- 
in-law  of  comte  Jean;  and  I  remarked  the  involuntary 
respect  that  attended  even  his  familiarity.  I  left  him  in 
his  error,  which  was  material  to  my  interests.  He  talked 
to  me  some  time  of  my  attractions,  of  the  part  which  a 
female  like  myself  might  assume  in  France.  But  fearing 
to  compromise  myself,  I  made  no  reply,  but  preserved 
the  reserve  which  my  character  imposed  upon  me.  I  am 
not  clever,  my  friend,  I  never  could  conduct  an  intrigue: 
I  feared  to  speak  or  do  wrong ;  and  whilst  I  kept  a  tran- 
quil appearance,  I  was  internally  agitated  at  the  absence 
of  comte  Jean. 

Fortune  sent  him  to  me.  He  was  passing  the  street, 
when  he  saw  at  our  door  a  carriage  with  the  royal  livery. 
Lebel  always  used  it  when  his  affairs  did  not  demand  a 
positive  incognito.  This  equipage  made  him  suspect  a 
visit  from  Lebel,  and  he  came  in  opportunely  to  extricate 
me  from  my  embarrassment. 

(<  Sir, w  said  Lebel  to  him,  when  he  entered,  <(  here  is 
the  lady  whose  extreme  modesty  refuses  to  listen  to 
what  I  dare  not  thus  explain  to  her." 

<(  Is  it  anything  I  may  hear  for  her  ? w  said  the  comte, 
with  a  smiling  air. 

*  Yes,  I  am   the   ambassador   of  a  mighty  power :   you 
are  -the    minister   plenipotentiary    of   the    lady,  and  with 
your  leave,  we  will  go  into  your  private  room  to  discuss 
the    articles    of    the    secret    treaty  which     I    have    been 
charged  to  propose  to  you.     What  says  madame  ?  * 

(<  I  consent  to  anything  that  may  come  from  such  an 
ambassador.  * 

Comte  Jean  instantly  led  him  into  another  room,  and 
when  they  were  alone,  Lebel  said  to  him,  *  Do  you  know 


6  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

that  your  sister-in-law  is  a  most  fascinating  creature  ? 
She  has  occupied  my  thoughts  since  I  have  known  her, 
and  in  my  enthusiasm  I  could  not  help  speaking  of 
her  in  a  certain  quarter.  So  highly  have  I  eulogized  her, 
that  his  majesty  desires  an  interview  with  her,  that  he 
may  judge  with  his  own  eyes  if  I  am  an  appreciator  of 
beauty. * 

At  these  words  comte  Jean  felt  a  momentary  agitation, 
but  soon  recovering  himself,  he  replied: 

<(  I  am  exceedingly  obliged  to  you,  sir,  for  the  favor- 
able disposition  you  have  evinced  towards  the  comtesse  du. 
Barry.  She  and  I  have  as  much  respect  as  love  for  his 
majesty;  but  my  sister-in-law  has  not  been  presented, 
and,  consequently,  I  can  scarcely  see  how  she  can  be 
allowed  to  pay  her  respects  to  his  majesty." 

(<Do  not  let  that  disturb  you;  it  is  not  intended  that 
she  shall  go  and  partake  of  the  magnificence  of  Ver- 
sailles, but  be  admitted  to  an  intimacy  much  more  flat- 
tering. Would  you  refuse  to  grant  him  that  pleasure  ? " 

tt  It  would  be  a  crime  of  lise-majtst/,*  said  the  comte 
Jean,  laughing,  <(  and  my  family  have  too  much  respect 
for  their  monarch.  We  should  not  be  content  with  a 
fugitive  favor." 

"You  may  expect  everything  from  the  charms  of  the 
comtesse ;  I  am  certain  they  will  have  the  utmost  success ; 
but  for  me,  I  can  give  you  no  guarantee.  You  must  run 
the  chance." 

"Your  protection,  however,  is  the  only  thing  which 
encourages  my  sister-in-law  in  this  affair.  But  tell  me 
when  is  this  meeting  to  take  place  ? " 

<(  Instantly.  The  king  is  impatient  to  see  the  comtesse, 
and  I  have  promised  that  she  will  sup  with  him  to-morrow 
evening  in  my  apartment  at  Versailles." 

<(  How  is  she  to  be  introduced  to  the  king  ?  " 

<(  I  am  to  entertain  four  of  my  friends. " 

«  Who  are  they  ?  » 

w  First,  the  baron  de  Gonesse. }> 

•  Who  is  he  ? » 

«The  king  himself." 

•Well,  who  next?" 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  7 

"The  due  de  Richelieu." 

«  Who  else  ? » 

"The  marquis  de  Chauvelin." 

«  Well  ? » 

"  The  due  de  la  Vauguyon. }) 

«  What,  the  devotee  ? » 

(<  The  hypocrite.  But  never  mind :  the  main  point  is, 
that  you  must  not  appear  to  recognize  the  king.  Instruct 
your  sister-in-law  to  this  effect.* 

"Certainly;  if  she  must  sin,  she  had  better  do  so  with 
some  reason." 

While  these  gentlemen  were  thus  disposing  of  me, 
what  was  I  doing  ?  Alone,  in  my  room,  I  waited  the  re- 
sult of  their  conference  with  mortal  impatience.  The 
character  I  had  to  play  was  a  superb  one,  and  at  the 
moment  I  was  about  to  enter  on  the  stage,  I  felt  all 
the  difficulties  of  my  part.  I  feared  I  should  not  succeed, 
but  fail  amid  the  insulting  hisses  of  the  Versailles 
party. 

My  fears  at  once  disappeared,  and  then  I  pictured  my- 
self sitting  on  a  throne,  magnificently  attired;  my  imag- 
ination wandered  in  all  the  enchantments  of  greatness ;  — 
then,  as  if  from  remorse,  I  recalled  my  past  life.  The 
former  lover  of  Nicholas  blushed  before  the  future  mis- 
tress of  Louis  XV.  A  thousand  different  reflections 
crowded  upon  me,  and  mingled  in  my  brain.  If  to  live 
is  to  think,  I-  lived  a  whole  age  in  one  quarter  of  an 
hour.  At  length  I  heard  some  doors  open,  a  carriage 
rolled  away,  and  comte  Jean  entered  my  chamber. 

"Victory!"  cried  he,  embracing  me  with  transport. 
"Victory!  my  dear  Jeanne,  to-morrow  you  sup  with  the 
king. " 

On  this  information  I  turned  pale,  my  strength  for- 
sook me,  and  I  was  compelled  to  sit  down,  or  rather  to 
fall  into  a  chair;  for,  according  to  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau, 
my  legs  shook  under  me  {flageolaient).  This,  however, 
was  the  only  movement  of  weakness  which  I  betrayed. 
When  I  recovered  a  little,  the  comte  Jean  told  me  the 
conversation  he  had  had  with  Lebel.  I  joked  about 
the  title  of  baron  de  Gonesse,  and  I  promised  to  treat  the 


8  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

king  as  if  ignorant  of  his  incognito.  One  thing  only 
made  me  uneasy,  and  that  was  supping  with  the  due  de 
Richelieu,  who  had  seen  me  before  at  madame  de 
Lagarde's;  but  the  idea  that  he  would  not  remember  me 
gave  me  renewed  courage. 

On  so  important  an  occasion,  comte  Jean  did  not  forget 
to  repeat  his  instructions  over  again.  These  are  nearly 
his  words,  for  I  think  I  learnt  them  by  heart. 

<(  Remember  that  it  is  on  your  first  interview  that  your 
safety  .depends.  Let  him  learn,  through  you,  those  utter 
tendernesses  which  have  been  sought  for  him  in  vain 
heretofore.  He  is  like  the  monarch  of  old,  who  was 
willing  to  pay  the  half  of  his  crown  for  an  unknown 
pleasure.  Lebel  is  wearied  in  seeking  every  week  for 
new  fruit.  He  is  quite  disposed  to  serve  you,  and  will 
second  you  in  the  best  manner.  You  are  about  to  be- 
come the  centre  of  attraction  to  all  courtiers,  and  noble 
courtisanes.  You  must  expect  that  they  will  endeavor  to 
cry  you  down,  because  you  will  have  carried  off  from 
them  a  gem  to  which  every  family  has  its  pretensions. 
You  must  at  first  stand  firmly  before  the  storm,  but 
afterward  you  will  find  all  enlist  themselves  under  your 
banner,  who  have  no  wife,  sister,  nor  daughter;  that  is, 
all  who  have  no  mistress  to  offer  to  the  king.  You  must 
attach  these  to  you  by  place  and  favor:  they  must  be 
first  thought  of,  and  then  you  must  think  of  yourself  and 
me,  my  dear  girl.8 

"All  this  is  well  enough, w  I  replied,  (<but  as  yet  I  am 
nothing.  * 

^-Morbleu!  to-morrow  you  will  be  everything,*  cried 
comte  Jean,  with  his  determined  energy.  <(  But  we  must 
think  about  this  morrow.  Make  haste,  noble  comtesse  ; 
go  to  all  the  milliners,  seek  what  is  elegant  rather  than 
what  is  rich.  Be  as  lovely,  pleasing,  and  gay  as  possible ; 
this  is  the  main  point,  and  God  will  do  all  the  rest." 

He  pronounced  this  blasphemy  in  a  laughing  tone,  and 
I  confess  I  could  not  help  joining  in  the  laugh,  and  then 
hastened  to  comply  with  his  directions. 


CHAPTER   II. 

A  slight  preface  —  Arrival  at  Versailles  —  La  toilette  —  Portrait  of 
the  king  —  The  due  de  Richelieu  —  The  marquis  de  Chauvelin — 
The  due  de  la  Vauguyon — Supper  with  the  king  —  The  first  night 
— The  following  day  —  The  curiosity  of  comte  Jean  —  Presents 
from  the  king  —  How  disposed  of. 

THE  chances  against  our  succeeding  in  our  enterprise 
were  at  least  a  thousand  to  one.  The  sea  upon 
which,  trusting  to  the  favorable  influence  of  my 
leading  star,  we  were  about  to  venture,  was  filled  with 
rocks  and  shoals  which  threatened  the  poor  mariner  who 
should  direct  his  bark  near  them.  In  the  first  place,  I  had 
to  dread  my  obscure  birth,  as  well  as  the  manner  in  which 
my  life  had  been  passed ;  and  still  more  had  I  to  fear  the 
indifferent  reputation  of  comte  Jean.  There  was  more 
than  sufficient  in  all  this  to  disturb  a  head  far  stronger 
than  I  could  boast.  However,  thanks  to  my  thoughtful- 
ness,  no  troublesome  thoughts  interfered  to  break  my 
rest  on  the  night  preceding  a  day  so  important  to  me, 
and  I  slept  as  tranquilly  as  though  upon  waking  I  had 
no  other  occupation  for  my  time  than  a  walk  on  the 
boulevards,  or  a  drive  to  the  Bois  de  Boulogne. 

Comte  Jean,  however,  had  passed  a  very  different 
night;  for  once,  the  whisperings  of  ambition  had  over- 
come even  his  natural  indifference  and  carelessness,  and 
tired  of  tossing  upon  a  sleepless  pillow,  he  arose  at  the 
first  break  of  day,  reproached  me  for  slumbering  so  long, 
and  allowed  me  neither  peace  nor  rest  till  I  joined  him 
dressed  for  our  journey.  At  length,  we  set  out  according 
to  our  agreement  with  Lebel;  I  was  closely  muffled  up 
in  my  large  caliche  —  the  carriage  rolled  along  till  we 
reached  Versailles,  where  we  had  for  the  last  month 

(9) 


io  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

engaged  a  lodging,  which  might  be  useful  to  us  in  all 
events;  we  alighted,  and  after  vainly  seeking  a  few 
moments'  repose,  proceeded  on  foot  to  Lebel,  in  whose 
apartments  we  were  to  attire  ourselves  in  a  suitable 
manner. 

"You  are  welcome,"  said  the  comte,  "pray  consider 
yourself  as  at  home." 

"  I  accept  your  augury, "  replied  I,  "  it  would  be  amusing 
enough  to  find  that  my  young  prophet  had  predicted 
rightly." 

"  Well  then, "  said  my  conductor,  laughing,  "  I  recom- 
mend you  to  manage  a  slip  on  the  staircase,  it  would  be 
taking  possession  after  the  manner  of  the  ancients." 

"  No,  no,  I  thank  you, "  answered  I ;  "no  falls  if  you 
please,  they  are  not  propitious  in  France." 

Whilst  we  were  thus  speaking,  we  were  crossing  a 
long  suite  of  chambers,  and  reached  the  one  at  which  we 
were  expected.  We  knocked  cautiously  at  a  door,  which 
was  opened  to  us  with  equal  caution.  Scarcely  had  we 
entered,  than  Lebel  catae  eagerly  forward  to  receive  us. 

"  Ah,  madame ! "  cried  he,  "I  began  to  fear  you  might 
not  come,  you  have  been  looked  for  with  an  impatience  — " 

"Which  can  hardly  equal  mine,"  interrupted  I;  "for 
you  were  prepared  for  your  visitor,  whilst  I  have  yet  to 
learn  who  is  the  friend  that  so  kindly  desires  to  see  me." 

"It  is  better  it  should  be  so,"  added  Lebel;  "do  not 
seek  either  to  guess  or  discover  more,  than  that  you  will 
here  meet  with  some  cheerful  society,  friends  of  mine, 
who  will  sup  at  my  house,  but  with  whom  circumstances 
prevent  my  sitting  down  at  table." 

"  How  !  "  said  I,  with  affected  surprise,  "  not  sup  with 
us?» 

"  Even  so,"  replied  Lebel;  and  then  added  with  a  laugh, 
*He  and  I  sit  down  to  supper  together!  What  an  idea! 
No!  you  will  find  that  just  as  the  guests  are  about  to  sit 
down  at  table,  I  shall  suddenly  be  called  out  of  the  room, 
and  shall  only  return  at  the  close  of  the  repast." 

All  this  was  but  of  small  import  to  me.  Nevertheless, 
I  affected  to  regret  the  unavoidable  absence  of  Lebel.  In 
fact,  I  believe  that  the  first  breath  inspired  at  court  is 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  n 

fraught  with  falsehood  and  deceit,  entirely  destructive  to 
every  feeling  of  natural  candor. 

Lebel,  with  the  most  ceremonious  gallantry,  conducted 
me  to  a  private  dressing-room,  where  I  found  several 
females  waiting  to  assist  me  at  my  toilet;  I  abandoned 
myself  to  their  cares,  wh'ch  were,  indeed,  most  skilfully 
exercised  in  my  behalf.  They  wrought  wonders  in  my 
appearance,  bathing  me  after  the  Eastern  fashion,  adorn- 
ing my  hair  and  person,  till  I  issued  from  their  hands 
blooming  and  beauteous  as  an  houri. 

When  I  returned  to  the  room  in  which  Lebel  was  ex- 
pecting me,  his  surprise  was  almost  overpowering. 

<(  You  are,  indeed,  "  exclaimed  he,  <(  the  new  sun  which 
is  to  rise  upon  Versailles.* 

<(  Excellent !  w  cried  I,  laughing  extravagantly,  (<  but  like 
the  planet  you  are  pleased  to  compare  me  with,  I  must 
reserve  my  splendid  rising  till  I  have  obtained  fresh 
powers  from  the  aid  of  night.  *  * 

The  comte  entered,  and  joined  his  congratulations  upon 
the  beauty  of  my  appearance ;  all  at  once  the  hasty  sound 
of  a  bell,  violently  pulled,  was  heard. 

(<  The  object  of  your  attack  approaches,*  said  Lebel  to 
me,  <(  it  would  be  as  well  to  reconnoitre  a  little.  Remem- 
ber, not  a  word  of  his  rank,  no  cast  down,  timid  looks  at 
his  sovereign  power;  no  bending  of  knees,  or  faltering  of 
voice. w 

The  advice  thus  given  was  useless.  Comte  Jean  who 
bore  the  reputation  of,  at  least,  a  man  of  much  cool  im- 
pudence, was,  I  am  certain,  more  deficient  than  myself 
in  courage  upon  the  occasion,  and  I  verily  believe,  asked 
himself  several  times  whether  he  dared  appear  before  his 
prince  with  one  whom  he  was  falsely  asserting  to  be  his 
sister-in-law.  However  these  thoughts  might  or  might 
not  have  disturbed  him,  we  proceeded  onwards  till  we 
reached  the  apartment  where  our  invited  friends  were 
expecting  us;  and  here  I  will,  with  the  reader's  permis- 
sion, digress  awhile,  in  order  to  say  a  few  introductory 

*  Mais  avant  de  me  lever  zl  faut  que  je  me  cottche,  is  the  witty 
reply  in  the  original,  but  which  it  is  impossible  to  render  fully  and 
piquantly  through  the  dilution  of  a  translation. 


12  MEMOIRS   OP  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

words  respecting  the  four  personages  with  whom  I  had 
the  honor  of  supping. 

And  first,  Louis  XV th,  king  of  France  (or  as  he  was 
upon  the  present  occasion  styled  the  baron  de  Gonesse), 
was  one  of  those  sentimental  egotists  who  believed  he 
loved  the  whole  world,  his  subjects,  and  his  family; 
while  in  reality,  the  sole  engrossing  object  was  self. 
Gifted  with  many  personal  and  intellectual  endowments, 
which  might  have  disputed  the  palm  with  the  most  lively 
and  engaging  personages  of  the  court,  he  was  yet  de- 
voured by  ennui,  and  of  this  he  was  well  aware,  but 
his  mind  was  made  up  to  meet  this  ennui,  as  one  of 
the  necessary  accompaniments  of  royalty.  Devoid  of 
taste  in  literary  matters,  he  despised  all  connected  with 
the  belles-lettres,  and  esteemed  men  only  in  proportion  to 
the  number  and  richness  of  their  armorial  bearings.  M. 
de  Voltaire  ranked  him  beneath  the  lowest  country- 
squire;  and  the  very  mention  of  a  man  of  letters  was 
terrifying  to  his  imagination  from  its  disturbing  the  cur- 
rent of  his  own  ideas;  he  revelled  in  the  plenitude  of 
power,  yet  felt  dissatisfied  with  the  mere  title  of  king. 
He  ardently  desired  to  signalize  himself  as  the  first  gen- 
eral of  the  age,  and  prevented  from  obtaining  this  (in 
his  opinion)  highest  of  honors,  entertained  the  utmost 
jealousy  of  Frederick  II.,  and  spoke  with  undisguised 
spleen  and  ill-humor  of  the  exploits  of  his  brother  of 
Prussia. 

The  habit  of  commanding,  and  the  prompt  obedience 
he  had  ever  met  with,  had  palled  upon  his  mind,  and 
impressed  him  with  feelings  of  indifference  for  all 
things  which  thus  appeared  so  easily  obtained;  and 
this  satiety  and  consequent  listlessness  was  by  many 
construed  into  melancholy  of  disposition.  He  disliked 
any  appearance  of  opposition  to  his  will;  not  that  he 
particularly  resented  the  opposition  itself,  but  he  knew 
his  own  weakness,  and  feared  lest  he  should  be  com- 
pelled to  make  a  show  of  a  firmness  he  was  conscious 
of  not  possessing.  For  the  clergy  he  entertained  the 
most  superstitious  veneration ;  and  he  feared  God  because 
he  had  a  still  greater  awe  and  dread  of  the  devil.  In 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  13 

the  hands  of  his  confessor  he  confidently  believed  was 
lodged  the  absolute  power  to  confer  on  him  unlimited 
license  to  commit  any  or  every  sin.  He  greatly  dreaded 
pamphlets,  satires,  epigrams,  and  the  opinion  of  poster- 
ity, and  yet  his  conduct  was  that  of  a  man  who  scoffs 
at  the  world's  judgment.  This  hasty  sketch  may  with 
safety  be  taken  as  the  portrait  of  Louis  XV.,  although 
much  might  be  added;  yet  for  the  present  I  will  confine 
myself  to  the  outline  of  my  picture,  which  I  shall  have 
frequent  occasion  to  retouch  in  the  course  of  my  journal; 
it  is  my  intention  to  present  him  in  all  possible  lights 
before  the  reader,  and  I  flatter  myself  I  shall  produce  a 
perfect  resemblance  of  the  man  I  seek  to  depict.  Let  us 
now  proceed  to  consider  the  due  de  Richelieu. 

This  nobleman,  when  in  his  seventy-second  year,  had 
preserved,  even  in  so  advanced  an  age,  all  his  former 
pretensions  to  notice ;  his  success  in  so  many  love  affairs, 
a  success  which  he  never  could  have  merited,  had  ren- 
dered him  celebrated;  he  was  now  a  superannuated 
coxcomb,  a  wearisome  and  clumsy  butterfly;  when, 
however,  he  could  be  brought  to  exercise  his  sense,  by 
remembering  that  he  was  no  longer  young,  he  became 
fascinating  beyond  idea,  from  the  finished  ease  and  grace 
of  his  manner,  and  the  polished  and  piquant  style  of  his 
discourse;  still  I  speak  of  him  as  a  mere  man  of  outward 
show,  for  the  duke's  attainments  were  certainly  superficial, 
and  he  possessed  more  of  the  jargon  of  a  man  of  letters 
than  the  sound  reality.  Among  other  proofs  of  consum- 
mate ignorance  he  was  deficient  even  in  orthography, 
and  was  fool  enough  to  boast  of  so  disgraceful  a  fact,  as 
though  it  conferred  honor  on  him;  perhaps,  indeed,  he 
found  that  the  easiest  way  of  getting  over  the  business. 

He  possessed  a  most  ignoble  turn  of  mind;  all  feelings 
of  an  elevated  nature  were  wanting  within  him.  A  bad 
son,  an  unkind  husband,  and  a  worse  father,  he  could 
scarcely  be  expected  to  become  a  steady  friend.  All 
whom  he  feared,  he  hesitated  not  to  trample  under  foot; 
and  his  favorite  maxim,  which  he  has  a  hundred  times 
repeated  to  me,  was,  that  (<we  should  never  hesitate  to 
set  our  foot  upon  the  necks  of  all  those  who  might  in 


14  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

any  way  interfere  with  our  projects  —  dead  men  [he 
would  further  add  ]  tell  no  tales !  w  There  was  one  person, 
nevertheless,  whom  he  detested  and  nattered  at  the  same 
time,'  and  this  was  Voltaire,  who  well  repaid  him  in  like 
coin.  He  called  the  due  de  Richelieu,  the  tyrant  of  the 
tennis-court*  (tripot),  and  the  duke  returned  the  com- 
pliment by  invariably  designating  him  (<  Scoundrel }>  and 
(<  Poetaster  * ;  the  only  difference  was  that  the  due  de 
Richelieu  only  treated  the  poet  thus  in  sotto  voce,  whilst 
M.  de  Voltaire  sought  not  to  conceal,  either  in  his  writ- 
ings or  conversation,  his  candid  opinion  of  the  illustri- 
ous duke  and  peer;  and  he  might  justly  accuse  the  duke 
of  ingratitude,  for  he,  no  doubt,  owed  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  reputation  he  enjoyed  as  a  general,  to  the 
brilliant  verses  in  which  Voltaire  had  celebrated  his  ex- 
ploits. 

The  marquis  de  Chauvelin  was  equally  skilful  as  a 
warrior  and  diplomatist.  Gentle,  graceful,  and  witty,  he 
joined  to  the  most  extreme  versatility  of  talent  the  ut- 
most simplicity  of  character.  Once  known,  he  could  not 
fail  of  being  valued  and  esteemed,  and  the  king  enter- 
tained the  most  lively  regard  for  him.  The  noble  minded 
marquis  was  far  from  taking  advantage  of  his  sovereign's 
favor,  far  from  it;  he  neither  boasted  of  it,  nor  presumed 
upon  it.  This  truly  wonderful  man  died,  unhappily,  too 
soon  for  me,  for  the  king  on  whom  he  bestowed  the 
sagest  counsels,  and  for  foreign  courts  who  knew  and  ap- 
preciated his  worth.  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  of 
him  hereafter;  he  had  a  brother,  a  wicked  little  hump- 
backed creature,  brave  as  Caesar,  and  a  bitter  enemy  to 
the  Jesuits,  whom  he  did  not  a  little  contribute  to  over- 
turn in  the  parliament  of  Paris,  to  which  he  belonged. 
The  king  detested  this  man  as  much  as  he  loved  and 
cherished  the  brother,  and  that  is  saying  not  a  little. 

The  fourth  guest  was  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon,  the 
really  perpetual  tutor  to  the  princes  of  France,  for  he  had 
educated  four  successively.  He  had  displayed  in  the 
army  both  bravery  and  talent,  but  he  was  a  confirmed 
Jesuit,  and  conducted  himself  towards  me  upon  the  strictest 
1 La  Comtdie  Fran$aise, 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  15 

principles  of  his  order.  He  will  appear  again  on  the 
scene  hereafter,  but  for  the  present  I  must  lay  him  aside, 
whilst  I  return  to  my  entree  to  the  saloon,  which  I  was 
about  to  enter. 

Immediately  after  Lebel  had  conducted  me  into  it,  he 
was  called  away,  and  quitted  us.  The  king  rose  and  ap- 
proached me,  saluting  me  with  the  most  admirable  gal- 
lantry, and  addressing  to  me  the  most  encouraging  and 
gratifying  words.  His  gentle,  yet  polished  manners,  his 
fine  countenance,  noble  air,  and  the  free  and  unrestrained 
glances  of  admiration  which  sparkled  in  his  eyes,  com- 
municated to  me  a  feeling  of  support  and  confidence 
which  effectually  reassured  me,  and  roused  me  from  the 
involuntary  emotion  I  had  felt  at  the  moment  when  I 
first  appeared  in  his  presence.  The  king  addressed  a 
few  words  to  -comte  Jean,  and  then  regarded  him  steadily, 
as  tho'  he  were  trying  to  recall  his  features;  but  his 
eye  quickly  turned  on  me  again,  upon  whom  he  bestowed 
the  most  intoxicating  attention.  Never  was  first  sight 
more  effective,  and  never  did  a  flame  so  rapidly  increase 
as  did  the  passion  of  my  noble  adorer.  Ere  we  had  seated 
ourselves  at  the  supper-table,  he  was  ages  gone  in  love. 

It  would  have  provoked  a  smile  from  any  countenance 
to  perceive  how  the  respect  and  admiration  with  which 
the  three  courtiers  regarded  me  increased  in  proportion 
as  the  sentiments  of  the  king  towards  me  betrayed  them- 
selves more  and  more.  At  first  I  had  been  considered  as 
a  person  of  little  or  no  importance.  Soon,  however,  as 
their  sagacious  eyes  discovered  the  state  of  their  master's 
mind,  the  air  of  familiarity  with  which  they  had  regarded 
me  gave  place  to  a  more  studied  politeness,  which,  in  its 
turn,  as  matters  progressed,  was  superseded  by  the  most 
delicate  attention;  and  ere  we  rose  from  table  these 
gentlemen  watched  my  looks  with  the  most  eager  anxiety 
to  obtain  the  honor  of  my  notice,  and  hopes  of  future 
patronage  from  one  whom  they  easily  foresaw  would  be 
fully  qualified  to  bestow  it.  Comte  Jean  observed  all 
that  was  passing  in  profound  silence.  As  for  me,  I  talked 
and  laughed  with  perfect  freedom  from  restraint,  and  my 
frank  unaffected  mirth  appeared  to  enchant  the  king;  I 


1 6  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

knew  that  he  was  weary  of  the  nice  formalities  of  courtly 
beauty,  and  desired  to  refresh  his  eyes  and  ears  with 
something-  less  refined,  and  I  gratified  him  to  his  heart's 
wish.  The  conversation  became  lively  and  animated,  the 
merits  of  men  of  letters  were  discussed,  the  French  and 
Italian  theatre  passed  in  review  before  us,  and  finally,  we 
amused  ourselves  with  anecdotes  relative  to  the  intrigues 
of  court.  The  baron  de  Gonesse  related  to  us  a  circum- 
stance which  had  just  been  communicated  to  him  by  a 
county  magistrate.  I  must  here  apprize  the  reader  that 
these  administrators  of  justice  were  directed  to  collect  all 
the  facts,  scandalous,  horrible,  ridiculous,  or  piquant, 
which  occurred  within  their  jurisdiction,  in  order  that, 
being  forwarded  to  the  king-,  they  might  aid  in  dis- 
tracting his  mind  from  the  heavy  cares  of  government. 
Alas!  how  many  strange  and  eventful  things  have  I 
since  learned  by  similar  channels. 

The  supper  terminated,  the  king's  friends  remained 
some  time  conversing  with  us.  Whilst  these  noblemen 
were  busily  celebrating  my  praises  in  words  sufficiently 
loud  to  reach  the  king's  ear,  the  baron  de  Gonesse, 
standing  by  my  side,  was  prosecuting  his  suit  in  the 
most  ardent  terms.  I  received  his  overtures  with  becom- 
ing grace  and  modesty.  As  I  have  before  said,  the  ex- 
terior of  the  king  was  very  prepossessing,  and  what  he 
wanted  in  youth,  he  made  up  by  all  the  mature  graces 
of  dignified  royalty.  At  last  Lebel  appeared,  and  made 
me  a  sign  to  rise  from  my  seat.  Up  to  this  period  nothing 
had  arisen  to  betray  the  incognito  of  the  august  mon- 
arch, and  in  order  to  keep  up  my  pretended  ignorance  of 
his  grandeur,  I  quitted  the  apartment  with  little  cere- 
mony. Lebel  conducted  me  to  an  adjoining  chamber, 
furnished  with  the  utmost  magnificence.  When  we  were 
seated,  he  turned  to  the  comte  Jean,  who  had  followed 
us,  and  said,  <(  It  rests  with  yourself  whether  you  will  re- 
turn to  Paris,  or  remain  at  Versailles.  But  as  for  milady, 
who  seems  much  fatigued,  she  will,  we  trust,  honor  us 
by  accepting  a  bed  at  the  castle.* 

My  self -created  brother-in-law  understood  as  well  as  I 
did  the  significance  of  these  words,  and  clearly  read  in 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  17 

their  import  how  far  I  had  attracted  the  favor  of  the 
king.  In  order  ,to  have  rendered  the  impression  more 
lasting-,  we  could  have  wished  that  matters  had  been 
less  precipitated,  but  we  were  under  a  roof  where  every- 
thing yielded  to  the  caprices  of  its  master,  and  resignation 
to  his  will  became  a  matter  of  course.  And  here  I  trust 
I  may  be  pardoned  if  I  pass  over  certain  details  which 
could  not,  at  this  lapse  of  time,  interest  or  amuse  any 
one;  besides,  altho"  I  have  found  no  difficulty  in  re- 
citing former  events  of  my  life,  I  find  my  pen  more 
prudish  and  coy  than  were  my  ears  or  mouth.  All  I 
shall  say  is,  that  the  following  day,  as  soon  as  I  was  left 
alone  in  my  chamber,  Lebel  entered,  and  prostrating 
himself  at  the  side  of  my  bed, — 

<(  Madame  la  comtesse, *  said  he,  (<  is  queen  and  mistress 
here.  Not  only  has  your  noble  lover  failed  to  communi- 
cate to  me  the  usual  signal  of  disgust  or  dislike,  but  he 
has  spoken  of  you  to  me  in  the  most  favorable  light,  de- 
claring, that,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  felt  the 
influence  of  a  true  and  sincere  affection;  for  this  reason 
he  desired  I  would  not  convey  to  you  the  contents  of 
this  casket,  as  originally  intended.* 

(<  And  what  does  it  contain  ? *  asked  I,  with  childish 
eagerness. 

<(Oh,  a  trifle  unworthy  of  her  who  is  now  the  mistress 
of  his  warmest  love;  only  a  purse  containing  a  hundred 
louis,  and  a  suit  of  emeralds  worth  a  similar  sum.  He 
bade  me  say  it  might  have  served  to  recompense  a  mere 
fleeting  fancy,  but  that  it  is  unworthy  of  your  charms, 
nor  can  he  insult  you  by  the  offer  of  it.® 

<(  Will  he  then  see  me  again  ? *  inquired  I. 

<( To-morrow  evening,  if  agreeable  to  you.* 

<(Only  say  that  his  wishes  are  mine.* 

"Would  you  wish  to  see  the  comte  Jsan  before  you 
rise  ?  He  has  been  waiting  with  the  utmost  impatience  to 
see  you  since  seven  o'clock  this  morning.  * 

<(  Let  him  come  in. }) 

The  comte  entered,  and  I  saw  by  the  triumphant  joy 
painted  on  his  face,  that  Lebel  had  told  him  of  the  pro- 
pitious state  of  things.  He  ran  up  to  me  with  out- 


i8  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

stretched  arms,  congratulating  me  upon  my  success,  and 
putting  at  the  same  time  several  questions,  to  which, 
either  from  mere  womanly  caprice,  or  presuming  upon 
my  recent  elevation  to  the  character  of  prime  favorite,  I 
refused  to  reply. 

My  folly  drew  down  on  me  his  severe  anger,  and  sev- 
eral oaths  escaped  his  lips,  which,  echoed  back  by  walls 
so  unused  to  similar  violence,  struck  Lebel  with  terror. 
That  faithful  ally  placed  his  hand  over  his  mouth,  im- 
ploring of  him  to  recollect  himself,  and  the  place  he  was 
in.  As  for  me,  dreading  some  foolish  burst  of  his  im- 
petuosity, I  tried  some  of  my  sweetest  smiles,  and  inviting 
him  to  sit  beside  me,  related  to  him  and  Lebel  those  par- 
ticulars which  my  pen  refuses  to  retrace.  Amongst  other 
things,  I  told  them  I  had  said  to  the  king,  that  I  had 
perfectly  known  who  he  was  all  the  preceding  evening 
when  supping  with  him,  and  that  he  had  the  simplicity 
to  say,  <(  he  was  surprised  I  had  not  appeared  more  em- 
barrassed in  his  presence.* 

Our  conversation  terminated,  I  wished  to  return  to 
Paris,  and  I  was,  without  further  hindrance,  allowed  to 
depart.  Scarcely  had  I  arrived  there  an  hour,  than  I 
received  from  his  majesty  a  magnificent  diamond  agraffe, 
worth  at  least  60,000  francs,  and  bank  notes  to  the 
amount  of  200,000  livres. 

Comte  Jean  and  myself  were  well  nigh  stupefied  with 
astonishment  at  the  sight  of  such  treasures;  to  us,  who 
had  never  in  our  lives  possessed  such  sums,  they  ap- 
peared inexhaustible.  My  brother-in-law  divided  them 
into  two  equal  portions,  one  of  which  he  put  into 
his  pocket,  and  the  other  into  my  escritoire.  With  this 
arrangement  I  did  not  interfere;  nothing  seemed  to  me 
more  simple  than  that  he  should  satisfy  his  need  out  of 
my  superfluity.  I  bestowed  two  thousand  crowns  upon 
Henriette,  and  expended  in  the  course  of  the  day  at 
least  a  quarter  of  my  riches  in  trifles,  as  unnecessary 
as  useless;  and  all  this  without  once  remembering  that 
as  I  owed  my  present  abundance  to  a  momentary  in- 
clination on  the  part  of  the  king,  so  the  turn  of 
an  hour,  or  a  fresh  fancy  on  the  part  of  my  munifi- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  19 

cent  adorer,  might  reduce  me  to  the  unprovided  state 
in  which  I  had  been  so  lately.  That  evening  was  passed 
t$te-&-t$te  with  comte  Jean;  he  thought,  as  I  did,  that 
the  foundation  of  our  treasure  was  firm  as  a  rock,  and 
he  gave  me  many  counsels  for  the  future  which  I  prom- 
ised to  observe;  for  indeed  it  was  to  my  own  interest  to 
do  so.  Upon  how  many  follies  did  we  then  debate,  which, 
but  a  few  days  afterwards  we  found  practicable.  The 
different  ministers  passed  in  review  before  us;  some  we 
determined  upon  retaining,  whilst  others  were  dismissed, 
and  already  I  began  in  idea  to  act  with  sovereign  power 
over  these  illustrious  personages,  amongst  whom  I  antici- 
pated shortly  playing  so  important  a  part.  "After  all,* 
said  I,  <(the  world  is  but  an  amusing  theatre,  and  I  see 
no  reason  why  a  pretty  woman  should  not  play  a  princi- 
pal part  in  it." 


CHAPTER    III. 

The  king's  message  —  Letter  from  the  countess  —  A  second  supper  at 
Versailles — The  due  d'Ayen — A  short  account  of  M.  de  Fleury  — 
The  due  de  Duras  —  Conversation  with  the  king  —  The  next  day 
— A  visit  from  the  due  de  Richelieu — Visit  from  the  due  de  la 
Vauguyon  —  Visit  from  comte  Jean — Visit  from  the  king — A  third 
supper  —  Favor. 

EARLY   the    following   day   I   received   a   message   from 
the  king,  accompanied  with  a  bouquet  of  flowers  tied 
round  with  a  string  of  diamonds.   A  short  letter  was 
annexed   to    this    splendid  gift,  which  I  would  transcribe 
here,  had  it  not  been  taken  from  me  with  many  others. 
My  reply,  which  I  wrote  upon^  the  spur  of   the   moment, 
was  concise,  and,  as  I  preserved  the   rough    copy,  under 
the  impression  of   its  being   one   day  useful,  I   can   give 
the  reader  the  exact  words. 

(<The  billet  traced  by  your  noble  hands,  renders  me  the  happiest 
of  women.  My  joy  is  beyond  description.  Thanks,  monsieur  le 
Baron,  for  your  charming  flowers.  Alas!  they  will  be  faded  and 
withered  by  to-morrow,  but  not  so  fleeting  and  short-lived  are  the 
sentiments  with  which  you  have  inspired  me.  Believe  me,  the  desire 
you  express  to  see  me  again  is  entirely  mutual ;  and  in  the  impatience 
with  which  you  await  our  next  interview,  I  read  but  my  own  senti- 
ments. The  ardor  with  which  jrou  long  to  embrace  me,  is  fully 
equalled  by  the  affection  which  leads  me  to  desire  no  gratification 
greater  than  that  of  passing  my  whole  life  in  your  society.  Adieu, 
monsieur  le  baron;  you  have  forbidden  my  addressing  you  as  your 
rank  and  my  respect  would  have  me,  I  will  therefore  content  myself 
with  assuring  you  of  the  ardent  affection  of  the 

(<COMTESSE   DU   BARRY. » 

The  signature  I  adopted  was  a  bold  piece  of  falsehood, 
but  it  was  too  late  to  recede;  besides,  I  was  addressing 
myself  in  my  letter,  not  to  the  king,  but  to  the  baron  de 
Gonesse;  for  Louis,  by  I  know  not  what  unaccountable 
caprice,  seemed  to  wish  to  preserve  his  incognito.  I  have 

(30) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  21 

since  learned  that  Francis  I.  assumed  the  same  name, 
altho'  upon  a  very  different  occasion.  Replying  to  a 
letter  from  Charles  V.,  in  which  that  emperor  had  given 
himself  a  long  string  of  high  sounding  titles,  he  contented 
himself  with  simply  signing  his  letter,  (<  Francois,  baron  de 
Gonesse*  Louis  XV.  was  very  fond  of  borrowed  appel- 
lations. Unlike  the  vanity  so  common  to  mankind,  of 
seeking  to  set  off  their  pretensions  by  assumed  titles,  it 
is  the  pleasure  of  royalty  to  descend  to  a  lower  grade  in 
society  when  concealment  becomes  desirable,  either  from 
policy  or  pleasure ;  and  Louis  sought  in  the  familiarity  in 
which  a  plain  baron  might  safely  indulge,  a  relief  from 
the  ennui  attendant  upon  the  rigid  etiquette  of  a  regal 
state.  I  had  omitted  in  my  letter  to  the  baron,  to  remind 
him  that  we  were  to  meet  that  very  evening,  but  that 
did  not  prevent  my  repairing  to  Versailles  punctually  at 
the  appointed  hour.  I  was  conducted  into  the  same 
apartment  as  before,  where  I  found  the  same  females 
who  had  then  assisted  at  my  toilet  again  prepared  to  lend 
their  aid;  and  from  this  moment  I  had  a  regular  estab- 
lishment of  attendants  appointed  for  my  use. 

The  moment  the  king  was  informed  of  my  arrival, 
unable  to  restrain  his  impatience,  he  hastened  to  me  to 
assist  at  my  dressing  table,  and  he  continued  standing 
beside  me  so  long  as  the  operation  lasted;  I  felt  greatly 
embarrassed,  not  knowing  whether  I  durst  take  the 
liberty  of  requesting  him  to  be  seated.  However,  my 
silence  on  the  subject  was  greatly  admired,  and  ascribed 
to  my  perfect  acquaintance  with  polished  life,  when  in 
reality  it  originated  from  mere  timidity.  My  triumph 
was  complete;  the  monarch  smiled  at  and  admired  every 
word  as  it  fell  from  my  lips,  kissed  my  hands,  and  played 
with  the  curls  of  my  long  hair,  sportively  twisting  his 
fingers  amidst  my  flowing  ringlets  with  all  the  vivacity  of 
a  lover  of  twenty.  The  company  upon  this  evening  was 
different  from  that  of  the  former  occasion,  consisting  of 
the  due  de  Duras,  first  gentleman  of  the  bedchamber, 
and  the  due  d'Ayen,  who  had  the  reputation  of  being  a 
great  wit;  however,  in  my  opinion,  he  was  much  more 
deserving  the  character  of  a  real  fiend;  his  very  breath 


22  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

was  poisonous,  and  his  touch  venomous  as  the  bite  of  an 
adder.  I  well  remember  what  M.  de  Fleury  said  of  him 
to  the  king  in  my  presence.  "Sire,"  said  he,  "the  thing 
I  most  dread  in  the  world  next  to  a  bite  from  M.  d'Ayen, 
is  the  bite  of  a  mad  dog."  For  my  own  part,  I  did 
not  in  the  end  look  upon  him  with  less  terror,  and  well 
he  paid  me  for  my  fears.  Upon  one  occasion,  when  the 
king  was  speaking  of  me  to  him,  he  said,  <(  I  am  well 
aware  that  I  succeed  St.  Foix." 

®  Yes,  sire w ;  replied  the  duke,  (<  in  the  same  manner  as 
your  majesty  succeeds  Pharamond!  w 

I  never  forgave  him  those  words,  dictated  by  a  fiendish 
malice.  However,  upon  the  evening  of  my  first  intro- 
duction to  him,  he  behaved  to  me  with  the  most  marked 
politeness.  I  was  then  an  object  of  no  consequence  to 
his  interests,  and  his  vision  had  not  yet  revealed  to  him 
the  height  I  was  destined  to  attain.  He  looked  upon  me 
but  as  one  of  those  meteors  which  sparkled  and  shone 
in  the  castle  at  Versailles  for  twenty-four  hours,  and 
sank  to  rise  no  more. 

The  due  de  Duras  was  not  an  ill-disposed  person,  but 
inconceivably  stupid;  indeed,  wit  was  by  no  means  a 
family  inheritance.  Both  father  and  son,  good  sort  of 
people  in  other  respects,  were  for  ever  saying  or  doing 
some  good  thing  in  support  of  their  reputation  for  stu- 
pidity at  court.  One  day  the  king  quite  jokingly  inquired 
of  the  due  de  Duras,  what  was  done  with  the  old  moons. 
(<  Upon  my  word,  sire,w  replied  he,  "I  can  give  you  no 
idea,  never  having  seen,  but  with  your  majesty's  permis- 
sion, I  will  endeavor  to  learn  from  M.  de  Cassini ! w  To 
such  a  pitch  did  the  poor  man's  simplicity  extend.  Both 
father  and  son  were  nominated  to  attend  the  king  of 
Denmark,  when  on  his  road  to  visit  France.  The  king 
observed  to  a  person  who  repeated  it  to  me :  <(  The 
French  are  generally  styled  a  clever,  witty  nation;  I 
cannot  say  I  should  ever  have  been  able  to  discover  it, 
had  I  been  tempted  to  form  my  opinion  from  the  speci- 
men they  have  sent  me.* 

As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  after  saying  so  many  un- 
favorable things  of  the  Messrs,  de  Duras,  I  must  do  them 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  23 

the  justice  to  say,  that  their  conduct  towards  me  was 
everything  that  could  be  desired.  I  was  always  glad  to 
see  them;  it  gave  my  own  imagination  a  sort  of  sedative 
dose  to  converse  with  these  two  simple-minded  beings, 
whose  interests  I  was  always  ready  to  promote  by  every 
means  in  my  power,  and  I  trust  the  memory  of  what  I 
have  done  will  be  long  remembered  by  the  noble  house 
of  Duras. 

This  supper  did  not  pass  off  so  gaily  as  the  former 
one.  The  due  de  Duras  spoke  as  little  as  possible,  in  the 
dread  of  making  some  unlucky  speech,  and  the  due 
d'Ayen  sat  devouring  the  spleen  he  could  not  give  vent 
to,  and  meditating  fresh  objects  upon  whom  to  exercise 
his  malignity;  he  vainly  endeavored  to  lead  me  on  to  make 
some  ridiculous  observation,  but  without  success;  happily 
for  him,  the  king  did  not  perceive  his  aim.  My  royal 
lover  was  indeed  so  entirely  engrossed  by  me,  that  he 
lost  all  the  duke's  manoeuvres;  his  transports  appeared 
too  much  for  his  senses  to  sustain,  and  he  vowed  that  I 
should  never  quit  him  more,  but  remain  to  be  elevated 
by  his  power  to  the  first  place  at  court.  At  the  mon- 
arch's sign,  the  two  guests  withdrew. 

When  the  due  d'Ayen  quitted  the  room,  "That  noble- 
man is  by  no  means  to  my  taste,  *  said  I  to  the  king,  (<  he 
has  the  air  of  a  spy,  who  wishes  me  no  good.w 

(<  Do  you  really  think  so,  my  lovely  comtesse  ?  * 

a  I  am  certain  of  it ;  and  I  already  shudder  at  the  bare 
anticipation  of  an  enemy  having  access  to  your  majesty's 
ear. w 

<(  Reassure  yourself, w  said  the  king,  with  the  utmost  ten- 
derness, <(  in  me  you  have  a  sure  defender,  who  will 
never  forsake  you;  look  upon  me  from  this  minute  as 
your  natural  protector,  and  woe  to  him  on  whose  head 
your  displeasure  shall  fall.* 

After  this  conversation  the  king  and  myself  retired  to 
rest,  and  when  he  quitted  me  in  the  morning,  he  en- 
treated me  not  to  return  to  Paris,  but  to  give  him  my 
company  for  a  whole  week.  Lebel  made  his  appearance 
to  beg  I  would  consider  myself  mistress  of  the  apart- 
ments I  occupied,  and  that  he  had  received  orders  to 


24  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER. 

provide  me  with  an  establishment  upon  the  most  hand- 
some scale. 

That  very  day  Henriette,  whom  I  had  sent  for,  and 
instituted  as  my  head  waiting-woman,  informed  me,  that 
an  old  gentleman,  attired  as  tho'  for  a  grand  gala, 
but  who  refused  to  send  in  his  name,  begged  to  be  per- 
mitted to  pay  his  respects.  I  bade  her  admit  him;  it 
was  the  due  de  Richelieu. 

"  Madame  la  comtesse, w  said  he,  bowing  low,  <(  I  come 
to  complain  of  your  want  of  condescension;  unless,  in- 
deed, your  memory  has  been  at  fault.  Was  it  possible 
that  when  I  had  the  honor  of  supping  with  you  the  other 
night,  you  did  not  recollect  your  former  old  friend?  * 

w  If,  indeed,  my  forgetfulness  were  a  fault,  monsieur  le 
mare'chal,  it  was  one  in  which  you  bore  an  equal  share; 
you  were  not  more  forward  than  myself  in  displaying 
marks  of  recognition.* 

(<  That  arose  only  from  the  dazzling  increase  of  your 
beauty.  You  were  but  a  nymph  when  last  my  eyes  had 
beheld  you,  and  now  you  are  matured  into  a  goddess." 

The  duke  then  made  some  slight  allusion  to  the  family 
of  madame  Lagarde,  but  guessing  with  his  admirable 
tact,  that  such  reminiscences  could  not  be  particularly 
agreeable  to  me,  he  dexterously  turned  the  conversation, 
by  requesting  permission  to  present  to  me  his  nephew, 
the  due  d'Aiguillon,  that  he  might  leave  a  worthy  sub- 
stitute and  champion  near  the  king  when  state  affairs 
called  him  into  Gascony;  he  craved  my  kind  offices  to 
obtain  the  -intimate  acquaintance  of  comte  Jean.  They 
were  subsequently  at  daggers  drawn  with  each  other, 
but  this  haughty  overbearing  lord  conducted  himself  at 
first  with  the  most  abject  servility.  The  third  favor  he 
had  to  solicit  was  that  I  would  name  him  to  the  king 
as  frequently  as  opportunities  occurred  to  form  one  of 
our  supper  parties.  All  this  I  engaged  to  do,  nor  indeed 
could  I  refuse  after  the  violent  protestations  of  friendship 
he  made  me. 

«  You  will,  ere  long,  °  said  he,  <(  see  the  whole  court  at 
your  feet,  but  beware  of  considering  them  all  as  your 
friends;  have  a  care,  above  all,  of  the  duchesse  de 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  25 

Grammont.  She  has  been  long  endeavoring-  to  obtain  the 
king's  affections,  and  she  will  see  with  hatred  and  fury 
another  more  worthy  engrossing  the  place  she  has  so 
vainly  contended  for;  she  and  her  impertinent  brother 
will  call  in  the  aid  of  the  devil  himself  to  dispossess  you 
of  your  elevated  seat;  you  are  lost  if  you  do  not  twist 
both  their  necks." 

*  How,  monsieur  le  mare"chal,  shall  I  mark  my  career 
by  a  murder  ?  " 

<(  You  take  me  too  literally ;  I  only  mean  that  in  your 
place  I  would  not  be  at  the  trouble  of  keeping  any  terms 
with  them." 

<(  Ah,  monsieur  le  due,  I  understand  you  now ;  yet  it 
seems  a  bad  augury  to  have  to  begin  my  reign  by  cabals 
and  intrigues." 

(<Alas!  my  fair  comtesse,  you  are  too  good,  too  guile- 
less for  a  court  life;  between  ourselves  we  are  all  hypo- 
crites more  or  less;  mistrust  every  one,  even  those  who 
make  the  finest  protestations." 

<(  In  that  case  the  first  object  of  my  suspicion  would 
be  my  old  and  esteemed  friend  the  marechal  de  Riche- 
lieu." 

(<  Ah,  madame !  this  is  not  fair  usage,  thus  to  turn  my 
weapons  against  myself,  and  to  fight  me  with  my  own 
arms. " 

Upon  this  the  duke  quitted  me,  and  scarcely  had  he 
left  the  room,  when  the  due  la  Vauguyon  entered.  This 
gentleman  offered  me  no  advice;  he  contented  himself  by 
styling  the  Jesuits  his  "very  good  friends,"  and  continu- 
ally turning  the  conversation  upon  their  merits.  I  al- 
lowed him  to  express  his  attachment,  without  interruption, 
for  these  disagreeable  men,  whom  I  determined  in  my 
own  mind  to  have  nothing  to  do  with,  recollecting  all  I  had 
heard  of  their  dislike  to  our  sex.  After  an  hour  passed 
in  amusing  talk,  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon  retired,  well 
pleased  with  his  visit,  and  his  place  was  immediately 
supplied  by  comte  Jean,  to  whom  I  communicated  all 
that  had  passed  between  my  late  visitors  and  myself. 

(<For  heaven's  sake,"  said  he,  <(let  us  not  be  the  dupes 
of  these  great  lords;  before  we  range  ourselves  under  the 


26  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

banners  of  either  of  them  let  us  secure  our  own  footing; 
let  us  wait  till  you  are  presented.* 

<(  But,  my  good  friend,  I  must  be  a  married  lady  to 
obtain  that  honor.* 

"And  so  you  will  be  shortly,  do  not  be  uneasy  about 
that.  I  have  written  to  my  brother  William  to  set  out 
without  delay  for  Paris.  Your  swain  will  be  easily  in- 
duced to  marry  you.  What  do  you  think  of  that?* 

I  gave  comte  Jean  to  comprehend,  by  signs,  that  I 
left  my  destiny  in  his  hands,  and  he  kissed  my  hands 
and  withdrew.  The  king  managed  to  steal  a  few  min- 
utes to  converse  with  me. 

"You  did  not  intrust  me,  my  sweet  friend,*  said  he, 
<(  with  the  circumstance  of  your  having  formerly  known 
the  due  de  Richelieu;  less  reserved  on  the  subject  than 
you  were,  he  told  me  he  had  seen  you  at  the  house  of 
madame  Lagarde,  who  considered  you  one  of  her  dearest 
friends.  * 

<(  Sire,  *  replied  I,  "  I  was  too  much  occupied  with  your 
majesty,  to  think  of  any  other  person  in  the  world.* 

My  answer  delighted  him,  he  looked  at  me  in  the  most 
gracious  manner. 

"You  would  almost  persuade  me  that  you  love  me,* 
said  he,  smiling. 

"Indeed,  your  majesty,*  said  I,  "I  only  pray  that  you 
desire  the  continuance  of  my  affection.* 

<(  In  that  case,  *  replied  he,  kissing  my  hand  with  fervor, 
"you  do  but  partake  of  my  tenderness  for  you.* 

These  words  nattered  my  vanity,  and  here  I  must  de- 
clare that  if  I  never  felt  for  the  king  that  violent  attach- 
ment which  is  termed  love,  I  ever  entertained  for  him 
the  warmest  esteem.  He  was  so  attentive,  so  kind  to 
me,  that  I  must  have  been  a  monster  of  ingratitude  could 
I  have  looked  upon  him  with  indifference. 

Our  supper  on  this  night  was  again  lively  as  the  first 
had  been.  The  due  de  Richelieu  entertained  us  with 
several  amusing  anecdotes;  not  that  they  contained  any 
thing  very  piquant,  but  the  duke  related  them  well,  and 
we  were  all  in  the  humor  to  be  pleased,  and  laughed 
heartily  at  what  he  said.  Comte  Jean,  whose  eye  con- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  27 

stantly  followed  me,  appeared  perfectly  satisfied  with,  all 
I  said  or  did.  As  for  the  king,  he  seemed  enchanted 
with  me,  and  seemed  wholly  occupied  in  watching  my 
looks,  that  he  might  anticipate  my  wants.  After  supper, 
in  the  tete-b-tete  which  followed,  he  explained  himself  in 
terms  which  left  me  no  doubt  how  securely  my  empire 
over  him  was  established.  Had  he  been  less  explicit  on 
the  subject,  the  flattering  marks  of  favor,  and  the  adula- 
tory compliments  I  received  from  all  on  the  following 
day,  would  well  have  assured  me  of  it.  I  was  no  longer 
an  obscure  and  friendless  individual,  but  the  beloved 
mistress  of  the  king;  I  was,  to  use  the  expression  of 
Lebel,  a  new  sun  which  had  arisen  to  illumine  the  hori- 
zon of  Versailles.  I  could  no  longer  doubt  my  power 
when  I  saw  noble  personages  present  themselves  to 
solicit  the  most  servile  employments  about  my  person. 
Amongst  others,  I  might  instance  a  certain  lady  de  St. 
Benoit,  who  continued  first  lady  of  my  chamber,  during 
the  whole  time  of  my  regency; — my  justly- valued  Hen- 
riette  being  contented  to  take  the  second  place  of  honor. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

The  due  d'Aiguillon  —  The  due  de  Fronsac  —  The  duchesse  de  Gram- 
mont— The  meeting  —  Sharp  words  on  both  sides  —  The  due  de 
Choiseul — Mesdames  d'Aiguillon  —  Letter  from  the  due  d'Aiguil- 
lon—  Reply  of  madame  du  Barry  —  Mademoiselle  Guimard  —  The 
prince  de  Soubise  —  Explanation  —  The  Rohans — Madame  de  Mar- 
san — Court  friendships. 

THE  due  de  Richelieu,  who  was  in  haste  to  go  to 
Guienne,  lost  no  time  in  presenting  to  me  the  due 

d'Aiguillon.  He  was  not  young,  but  handsome  and 
well  made,  with  much  amiability  and  great  courage.  A 
sincere  friend,  no  consideration  could  weaken  his  regard; 
an  adversary  to  be  dreaded,  no  obstacle  could  repress  his 
boldness.  His  enemies  —  and  amongst  them  he  included 
the  whole  magistracy  —  his  enemies,  I  say,  have  used  him 
shamefully,  but  he  treated  them  too  ill  for  them  to  be 
believed  in  any  thing  they  say  of  him.  If  he  were  ambi- 
tious, he  had  the  excuse  of  superior  merit,  and  if  he 
showed  himself  too  severe  in  one  particular,  it  proceeded 
from  an  energy  of  mind  which  did  not  allow  him  to 
have  more  pity  for  others  than  they  had  for  him.  Do 
not,  my  friend,  think  that  the  attachment  I  had  for  him 
can  transport  me  beyond  just  limits.  Since  'he  is  in  his 
grave,  my  illusions,  if  I  had  any,  have  dissipated.  I 
only  give  to  my  deceased  friends  the  tribute  due  to  them 
—  truth  and  tears.  But  really,  without  thinking  of  it,  I 
am  attributing  to  myself  these  virtues  without  necessity, 
forgetting  that  you  are  not  one  of  those  who  would  fain 
render  me  as  black  as  possible  in  the  eyes  of  posterity. 
In  proportion  as  the  first  sight  of  the  uncle  had  prej- 
udiced me  against  him,  so  much  more  did  it  propitiate 
me  towards  the  nephew.  I  saw  in  him  a  generous  heart, 
and  a  genius  capable  of  lofty  actions  which  you  would 

(28) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  29 

vainly  have  sought  for  in  the  mare'chal  de  Richelieu. 
No  doubt  at  the  beginning-  of  our  liaison  the  due  d'Aiguil- 
lon  only  saw  in  me  a  woman  who  could  be  useful  to  his 
projects  and  plans;  but  soon  his  heart  joined  the  alliance, 
and  a  devotion  of  calculation  was  succeeded  by  a  vehe- 
ment passion,  of  which  I  was  justly  proud,  as  it  subdued 
to  my  chains  the  most  accomplished  of  courtiers. 

Our  first  interview  was  lively.  The  mare'chal  and  he 
supported  the  conversation  with  much  gaiety.  M.  de 
Richelieu,  as  I  have  already  told  you,  had  neither  wit 
nor  information,  but  possessed  that  ease  of  the  first 
circles,  those  manners  of  high  breeding,  those  courtly 
graces,  which  often  surpass  wit  and  information. 

(<  My  nephew, w  said  he  to  the  duke,  (<  madame  can  do 
much  for  us,  but  we  must  first  do  something  for  her. 
Without  support,  without  friends,  she  will  be  lost  at  Ver- 
sailles; let  us  be  her  partisans  if  she  will  allow  it,  and 
let  her  youth  have  the  benefit  of  our  experience.® 

The  tone  in  which  the  due  d'Aiguillon  replied  delighted 
me.  He  said  he  was  but  too  happy  to  serve  me,  and 
begged  me  to  rely  on  him  as  I  would  on  myself. 

"But,®  he  continued,  <(but  we  have  to  struggle  with  a 
powerful  party.  The  duchesse  de  Grammont  and  her 
brother  are  not  the  persons  to  give  up  the  field  without 
striking  a  blow.  But,  madame,  by  the  assistance  of  your 
happy  and  lovely  star,  I  will  enter  the  lists  with  pleasure, 
and  if  a  glance  of  your  eyes  will  recompense  a  conqueror, 
I  shall  be  he.» 

(<  Oh, ®  exclaimed  the  duke,  <(  my  nephew's  a  second 
Amadis  in  gallantry,  and  of  undaunted  courage.  You 
will  be  satisfied  with  him,  madame,  much  more  than  with 
my  son,  who  only  resembles  the  family  in  his  defects.® 

The  due  de  Fronsac  was  justly  hated  by  his  father;  he 
was  what  is  called  a  decided  scamp,  without  one  redeem- 
ing point  or  virtue.  Dissipated  without  agreeableness,  a 
courtier  without  address,  a  soldier  without  courage,  he 
thoroughly  deserved  his  bad  reputation.  He  was  not 
hated,  because  hatred  implies  a  species  of  honor,  but  he 
was  universally  despised.  His  father  hated  him :  he  hated 
his  father.  The  reciprocity  was  edifying.  I  have  often 


30  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

seen  the  due  de  Fronsac,  and  always  with  disgust.  He 
had  incurred  the  extremity  of  punishment;  when  trying 
to  carry  off  a  butcher's  daughter,  he  rendered  himself 
guilty  of  the  triple  crimes  of  arson,  rape,  and  robbery. 
This  was  the  most  splendid  deed  of  his  life,  at  least  his 
father  said  so,  the  only  one  in  which  he  had  shown — ' 
guess  what;  for,  my  friend,  I  will  not  pen  the  cynical 
word  made  use  of  by  his  father.  It  must  be  confessed 
that  we  sometimes  kept  very  bad  company  at  Versailles. 
The  king,  who  abhorred  degrading  actions,  did 'not  like 
the  due  de  Fronsac,  but  was  full  of  kindly  feeling  towards 
the  due  d'Aiguillon.  The  latter  experienced  the  extent 
of  his  favor  in  his  long  and  obstinate  struggle  with  the 
parliament  of  Bretagne.  It  must  be  owned,  that  if  he 
gained  the  victory  at  court,  he  decidedly  lost  it  in  the 
city,  and  I  was  publicly  insulted  on  this  account  in  the 
most  brutal  manner.  However,  the  friendship  which  his 
first  interview  inspired  me  with,  I  have  always  preserved 
unaltered. 

The  week  glided  away,  and  each  day  my  fortune 
seemed  more  fully  assured.  The  love  of  the  king  in- 
creased, he  heaped  presents  on  me  perpetually,  and 
seemed  to  think  he  never  could  do  enough  for  me.  The 
bounties  of  Louis  XV.  were  known,  and  instantly  aroused 
against  me  the  two  enemies  with  whom  I  had  been 
threatened  —  the  due  de  Choiseul  and  the  duchesse  de 
Grammont,  his  sister.  I  must  say,  however,  that,  at  first, 
the  brother  contented  himself  with  despising  me,  but  the 
duchesse  was  furious;  I  had  offended  her  feminine  self- 
love,  and  she  could  not  forgive  me.  I  have  told  you 
that  she  obtained  possession  of  the  king  by  stratagem. 
This  is  fact.  She  was  in  a  place  of  concealment  during 
a  regal  debauch,  and  when  Louis  left  the  table,  with  his 
head  heated  by  wine,  she  awaited  him  in  his  bed  to 
commit  a  sort  of  violence  on  him.  What  curious  ambi- 
tion! As  soon  as  this  noble  lady  learned  my  position, 
she  was  desirous  of  knowing  who  I  was,  and  I  have  been 
told  since  all  the  measures  she  took  to  learn  this.  She 
did  not  confine  her  search  to  the  circle  of  Versailles,  but 
hastened  to  prosecute  her  inquiries  in  Paris  with  M.  de 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  31 

Sartines.  The  lieutenant  of  police  not  suspecting  the 
favor  that  awaited  me,  as  well  as  that  which  I  already 
enjoyed,  and  on  the  other  hand  persuaded  of  that  of  the 
Choiseul  family,  set  all  his  bloodhounds  on  my  traces. 
They  did  not  fail  to  bring  him  back  a  thousand  horrible 
tales  about  me,  with  which  he  gratified  the  duchesse, 
who,  thinking  thereby  to  do  me  a  severe  injury,  spread 
in  the  chateau  a  multitude  of  prejudicial  tales  against 
me,  hoping  that  they  would  reach  the  ears  of  the  king 
and  disgust  him  with  his  amour.  It  was  at  this  juncture 
that  appeared  in  the  ^  Nouvelles  a  la  Main*  those  infa- 
mous articles,  collected  in  what  they  call  the  Collection 
of  Bachaumont.  From  the  same  source  proceeded  the 
songs  a  la  Bourbonnaise  which  filled  Paris,  and  were  sung 
about  everywhere.  These  scandals  produced  no  other 
effect  than  increasing  the  attachment  which  the  king 
had  for  me,  and  to  diminish  that  which  he  felt  for  the 
due  de  Choiseul. 

Passion  never  reasons;  if  it  had  common  sense,  it 
would  perceive  that  it  cannot  disgust  a  lover  by  vilifying 
his  mistress,  but,  on  the  contrary,  interests  his  self-love 
in  supporting  her.  Thus  all  these  intrigues  scathed  me 
not;  I  did  not  mention  to  my  counsellor  comte  Jean  an 
insult  which  I  met  with  in  the  park  at  Versailles  from 
madame  de  Grammont.  I  did  not  tell  it  to  the  king, 
not  wishing  to  create  any  disturbance  at  court.  I  avenged 
myself  by  myself,  and  think  I  conducted  myself  remark- 
ably well  in  this  adventure,  which  was  as  follows: 

I  was  walking  in  the  garden  with  Henriette,  who  had 
given  me  her  arm;  it  was  early  in  the  morning,  and  the 
walks  appeared  solitary.  We  walked  towards  the  side  of 
the  He  d' Amour,  when  we  heard  the  steps  of  two  persons 
who  came  behind  us.  Henriette  turned  her  head  and  then 
said  to  me,  *  Here  are  mesdames  de  Brionne  and  de 
Grammont. }>  I  knew  the  latter  but  very  slightly,  and  the 
former  not  at  all.  Certainly  she  could  not  have  been 
there  by  chance;  they  knew  I  should  be  there,  and 
wished  to  see  me  closely.  Not  suspecting  what  was  to 
follow,  I  was  delighted  at  the  rencontre.  They  passed 
us  with  head  erect,  haughty  air;  looked  at  me  with  a 


32  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

disdainful  stare,  laughed  rudely  and  walked  away.  Altho* 
such  behavior  offended  me,  it  did  not  put  me  out  of 
humor;  I  thought  it  very  natural  for  madame  de  Gram- 
mont  to  be  irritated  against  me.  Henriette  had  less 
magnanimity.  She  repeated  so  often  how  impertinent  it 
was  thus  to  insult  a  female  honored  by  the  bounties  of 
the  king,  and  so  far  excited  my  feelings,  that  instead  of 
returning  as  prudence  suggested,  I  followed  the  steps  of 
these  ladies.  I  did  not  proceed  far  before  I  rejoined 
them;  they  were  seated  on  a  bench,  awaiting  my  arrival 
as  it  appeared.  I  passed  close  to  them,  and  at  that  mo- 
ment the  duchesse  de  Grammont,  raising  her  voice, 
said, 

<(  It  must  be  a  profitable  business  to  sleep  with  every 
body. w 

I  was  excessively  nettled,  and  instantly  retorted,  <(At 
least  I  cannot  be  accused  of  making  a  forcible  entry  into 
any  person's  bed.*  The  arrow  went  to  the  mark  and 
penetrated  deeply.  The  whole  countenance  of  the  duch- 
esse turned  pale,  except  her  lips,  which  became  blue. 
She  would  have  said  something  foolish,  but  madame  de 
Brionne,  more  cool  because  touched  less  nearly,  placed 
her  hand  over  her  companion's  mouth.  I  in  my  turn 
walked  away  with  Henriette,  laughing  till  tears  came 
into  my  eyes  at  this  pleasing  victory. 

The  duchesse  de  Grammont,  who  had  no  further  in- 
clination to  laugh,  told  the  whole  to  her  brother.  He, 
who  loved  her  excessively,  too  much  so  perhaps,  repri- 
manded her,  nevertheless,  and  pointed  out  to  her  the 
disadvantage  in  an  open  struggle  with  me.  Madame  de 
Brionne  was  enjoined  to  secrecy,  but  that  did  not  pre- 
vent her  from  confiding  the  affair  to  the  dowager  duch- 
esse d'Aiguillon. 

This  latter  was  a  lady  of  most  superior  merit,  uniting 
to  much  wit  more  solid  acquirements.  She  spoke  English 
like  a  native.  Her  death,  which  happened  in  1772,  was 
a  great  misfortune  to  her  son,  to  whom  she  gave  the 
most  excellent  counsel.  She  told  my  adventure  to  her 
daughter-in-law,  who,  excessively  ambitious,  saw,  without 
any  pain,  the  increasing  attachment  of  her  husband  for 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  33 

me.  I  must  tell  you,  in  a  parenthesis,  that  I  always 
lived  on  the  best  terms  with  her,  and  that,  in  my  dis- 
grace, her  friendship  did  not  weaken.  I  must  do  her 
this  justice.  All  my  faithful  friends  have  not  been 
equally  faithful  towards  me. 

These  two  ladies  knowing  this  occurrence,  the  due 
d'Aiguillon  was  not  long  kept  in  ignorance  that  some- 
thing had  happened.  He  came  in  haste  to  see  me,  and 
inquired  what  it  was.  But  he  asked  in  vain,  I  would  not 
tell  him.  My  secrecy  hurt  him,  and  on  his  return  home 
he  wrote  to  me.  As  I  have  great  pleasure  in  telling  you 
all  that  recalls  this  amiable  gentleman  to  my  mind,  I  will 
transcribe  his  letter,  which  will  give  you  an  opportunity 
of  judging  of  the  turn  of  his  mind. 

<(  I  am  very  unhappy,  madame.  I  had  flattered  myself  with  having 
obtained  your  confidence,  but  the  obstinate  silence  which  you  have 
kept  with  me  has  cruelly  informed  me  of  my  mistake.  Allow  the 
deep  interest  with  which  you  have  inspired  me  to  offer  a  suggestion. 
You  know  nothing  of  forms,  you  are  unacquainted  with  our  usages: 
you  require  a  friend  who  shall  direct  and  counsel  you.  Why  should 
you  not  select  a  man  entirely  devoted  to  you,  and  as  equally  so  to 
the  king,  the  king  whose  affections  you  possess  —  and  who  could  re- 
fuse them  to  you?  I  pause.  Nothing  is  more  dangerous  than  to  use 
a  pen  where  we  have  a  heart  overflowing  like  mine.  Be  more  gracious 
towards  me,  I  ask  it  of  you  in  charity,  and  take  no  pleasure  in  driving 
me  to  twofold  desperation.  Adieu,  madame,  etc. 

<(  Signed,  THE  Due  D'A.» 

I  read  and  read  again  this  epistle :  it  delighted  me  from 
beginning  to  end.  I  found  in  it  a  depth  of  passion  which 
did  not  displease  me:  I  perfectly  comprehended  the  ob- 
scurity of  the  latter  phrase.  I  needed  a  sort  of  mentor 
superior  to  comte  Jean,  and  I  preferred  the  due 
d'Aiguillon  to  any  other,  because  he  pleased  me.  This 
feeling  decided  me,  and  I  replied  to  him  in  these  terms :  — 

(<You  are  wrong,  monsieur,  to  be  annoyed,  and  to  think  that  I  am 
not  disposed  to  grant  you  my  confidence.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  can- 
not place  myself  in  better  hands.  However,  we  do  not  know  each 
other  well  enough  for  me  to  repose  in  you  at  once:  see  me  frequently, 
and  then,  with  the  habit  of  being  in  your  company,  I  will  allow  my- 
self to  glide  quietly  into  that  state  of  confidence  which  you  desire. 
Yes,  I  am  indeed  a  stranger  to  all  that  passes  around  me:  my  only 
support  is  the  protection  with  which  the  king  honors  me.  That  is 
3 


34  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

all-powerful,  but  I  will  not  employ  it  unseasonably  or  improperly.  I 
know  that  I  need  the  counsels  of  an  honorable,  prudent,  and  well- 
informed  man.  I  accept,  therefore,  of  yours ;  I  even  ask  them  from 
you,  if  your  friendship  go  along  with  them.  Adieu,  monsieur.  My 
regards  are  due  to  your  uncle,  the  marechal,  the  first  time  you  write 
to  him.® 

This  letter  filled  the  due  d'Aiguillon  with  joy.  Some 
days  afterwards,  the  prince  de  Soubise,  who  also  wished 
to  give  me  his  advice,  did  not  attain  the  same  success. 
It  must  be  owned,  that,  for  a  man  of  the  world,  he  went 
about  it  in  a  very  clumsy  way.  He  committed  the  ex- 
treme error  of  selecting  mademoiselle  Guimard  as  medi- 
atrix between  himself  and  me.  This  lady  came  to  me  on 
the  strength  of  our  former  acquaintance ;  she  had  so  little 
sense  as  not  to  perceive  the  immense  distance  between 
us  which  a  few  days  had  caused,  and  that  the  opera- 
dancer  kept  by  the  prince  de  Soubise  could  have  no 
relation  with  the  favorite  of  the  king  of  France.  I  en- 
deavored, in  vain,  to  make  her  perceive  it,  without  mor- 
tifying her  too  much.  She  always  called  me  her  dear 
friend,  and  fairly  slaughtered  me  with  saying  that  her 
prince  would  protect  me.  It  was  singular  for  her  to 
speak  thus  to  me;  to  me  from  whom  her  prince  solicited 
protection.  She  did  not  confine  herself  to  this,  she  even 
insinuated  to  me  that  I  should  be  a  gainer  in  some  way. 
I  laughed  outright  at  this,  and  said  to  the  valet  de  chambre, 
who  was  stationed  at  the  door,  "Call  mademoiselle's 
servants.  *  This  annoyed  her  excessively ;  all  the  muscles 
of  her  face  were  contracted  with  rage;  but  she  restrained 
her  wrath,  saluted  me  with  an  assumed  respect,  and 
went  away,  after  having  so  worthily  acquitted  herself  of 
her  foolish  embassy. 

She  had  quitted  me  for  an  hour,  when  I  received  a 
letter  from  him  who  had  sent  her.  The  prince  de  Sou- 
bise begged  me  to  grant  him  an  interview,  in  which  he 
could  enter  into  an  explanation.  I  replied  that  I  would 
receive  him,  and  he  came  the  same  day. 

(<  I  am  much  pained,  madame,*  said  he,  on  entering, 
<(that  mademoiselle  Guimard  has  communicated  with  so 
little  address  what  I  wished  to  say  to  you." 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  35 

<(  Prince,  I  think  you  would  have  done  better  to  have 
been  the  bearer  of  your  own  message.  You  know  my 
station  here,  and  would  not  have  ridiculed  me  as  she 
has  done. w 

M.  de  Soubise,  much  puzzled  to  know  what  she  had 
said,  asked  me  the  question. 

<(  Why, w  I  replied,  <(  she  said,  that  if  I  would  follow 
your  counsels,  you  would  pay  me  for  my  condescension.® 

<(Ah!  madame,"  he  exclaimed,  <(she  has  completely 
murdered  me.  I  only  charged  her  to  offer  my  services 
to  you,  and  throw  myself  at  your  feet,  as  I  do  now.M 

<(  Rise,  prince,  I  do  not  accuse  you  of  such  folly,  and 
promise  not  to  mention  it  :  it  is  necessary,  however,  that 
you  should  know  I  have  but  one  part  to  play  here,  that 
of  pleasing  the  king.  Any  other  character  will  not  suit 
me.  Honor  me  with  your  friendship,  and  accept  mine 
in  return.  I  cannot,  must  not,  have  any  other  union 
with  you. M 

Thus  terminated  this  interview  ;  it  did  not  suit  me  to 
give  the  prince  de  Soubise  any  hopes.  He  and  all  the 
Rohans  would  have  lived  on  it  ;  they  would  have  turned 
my  confidence  to  their  gain,  and  as  they  were  for  the 
most  part  sharpers,  or  something  akin  to  it,  my  name 
would  soon  have  been  mixed  up  with  some  dirty  trans- 
action. His  family  was  a  hydra  of  avarice,  and  would 
alone  have  swallowed  up  all  the  wealth  of  France.  If 
the  king  had  taken  one  of  the  Rohan  family  for  his  mis- 
tress, I  believe  that  the  finance  department  would  not 
have  sufficed  for  one  year's  expenditure  of  this  prodigal 
family.  I  had  no  objection  to  the  prince  de  Soubise 
coming  to  supper  with  me,  but  I  did  not  feel  myself 
disposed  to  give  him  any  control  over  my  mind.  I  should 
have  been  ill-guided  by  a  man  who  had  no  government 
of  himself. 

If  M.  de  Soubise  did  not  depart  satisfied,  madame  de 
Marsan,  his  relative,  to  whom  he  related  the  bad  success 
of  his  attempt,  was  not  more  so.  She  was  a  woman  to 
have  governed  a  kingdom,  had  she  been  allowed  to  do 
so.  There  was  in  her  woman's  head  a  capacity  superior 
to  that  of  all  the  men  of  her  family.  She  had  a  great 


36  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

deal  of  ambition,  and  all  her  actions  were  the  results  of 
a  premeditated  plan.  She  would  have  ruled  the  king, 
the  princes,  the  princesses,  favorites,  mistresses,  the 
court,  the  city,  the  parliaments,  and  the  army!  Nothing 
would  have  been  impossible  to  her;  she  was  adequate  to 
any  thing.  Circumstances  did  not  give  her  the  oppor- 
tunity of  displaying  her  genius.  With  great  talents  and 
keen  perception,  she  was  reduced  to  the  government  of 
her  own  family  alone;  that  was  but  a  trifling  matter! 
In  spite  of  her  discontent,  madame  de  Marsan  preserved 
a  sort  of  neutrality  towards  me.  She  allowed  all  sorts  of 
ill  to  be  spoken  of  me  without  ever  repressing  a  word. 
She  was  then  mute  and  motionless.  She  saw  me  torn 
to  pieces  without  any  emotion.  However,  when  we  were 
together  she  tried  to  cajole  me  in  a  thousand  ways,  all 
the  time  detesting  me  in  her  heart;  and  I,  who  could 
scarcely  endure  the  sight  of  her,  paid  her  a  like  number 
of  little  attentions.  Thus  surrounded  by  hypocrites,  I 
became  one  myself.  We  learn  to  howl  in  the  society  of 
wolves. 


CHAPTER    V. 

The  due  de  la  Vauguyon  and  the  comtesse  du  Barry  —  The  mar- 
quis de  Chauvelin  and  the  comtesse — M.  de  Montbarrey  and  the 
comtesse  —  Intrigues  —  Lebel — Arrival  of  the  du  -Barry  family — 
The  comte  d'Hargicourt — The  demoiselles  du  Barry — Marriage 
of  the  comtesse  —  The  marquis  de  Bonrepos — Correspondences  — 
The  broken  glass. 

THE  prince  de  Soubise  was  not  the  only  person  who 
wished  to  act  in  the  capacity  of  mentor  to  me.  M. 
the  due  de  la  Vauguyon  attempted  also  to  be  the 
guide  of  my  youth.  This  nobleman  was  too  much  of  a 
Jesuit  not  to  have  a  nose  of  prodigiously  fine  scent.  He 
perceived  that  the  wind  was  in  my  favor,  and  ap- 
proached me  in  consequence.  I  have  mentioned  to  you 
his  first  visit,  and  he  made  me  a  second  a  few  days 
afterwards.  He  appeared  very  affable,  very  conciliating, 
and  insisted  particularly  several  times,  and  that  without 
any  apparent  motive,  that  the  king,  not  being  now  en- 
gaged in  the  ties  of  wedlock,  he  should  choose  some 
agreeable  companion,  and  assuredly  could  not  do  better 
than  select  me.  The  day  after  this  visit,  early  in  the 
morning,  the  duke  sent  me  a  splendid  bouquet,  a  homage 
which  he  afterwards  repeated,  and  then  called  on  me  a 
third  time. 

During  this  visit  after  a  conversation  on  the  embar- 
rassments of  an  introduction  at  Versailles,  he  proposed 
that  I  should  avoid  them. 

(<You  cannot  conceal  from  yourself,8  he  said,  "how 
powerful  will  be  the  cabal  against  you;  and,  without  in- 
cluding the  Choiseuls,  you  will  have  especially  to  fear 
the  pious  party,  who  will  only  see  in  your  intimacy  with 
the  king,  allow  me  to  say,  a  crying  scandal,  and  one  not 
profitable  for  religion.* 

(37) 


38  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

(<  If  the  pious  party  unite  with  those  who  are  not  so  to 
destroy  me, "  I  rejoined,  laughing-,  (<  I  shall  have  all  France 
against  me." 

*  No ;  but  perhaps  all  the  chateau.  But  there  is  a  way 
of  averting  the  storm.  Attach  yourself  to  the  party  of 
honest  men  who  have  been  so  greatly  calumniated  —  the 
Jesuits.  Philosophy,  supported  by  the  due  de  Choiseul, 
has  repressed  them;  but  the  high  clergy  and  the  mesdames 
royales  are  attached  strongly  to  them,  and  you  would  in- 
terest them  in  your  fortune  by  favoring  these  worthy 
fathers. " 

(<  What !  monsieur  le  due, "  cried  I,  (<  will  messeigneurs  the 
clergy  of  France,  and  mesdames  royales  and  their  suite  be 
favorable  to  me,  if  I  use  my  influence  with  the  king  in 
espousing  the  cause  of  the  society  of  Jesus? " 

<(  Certainly,  madame,  and  I  am  authorized  to  promise 
you.  I  give  you  my  word  for  this.  Endeavor  to  re-estab- 
lish the  order,  and  there  will  not  be  one  of  us  but  will 
be  zealous  in  supporting  you." 

<(I  certainly  am  desirous  of  pleasing  your  friends;  but 
I  can  see  that,  from  the  first  moment  of  my  appearance 
at  court,  I  shall  be  at  open  war  with  the  Choiseuls  and 
the  parliaments." 

<(  What  matters  it  ?  I  confess  that  the  victory  will  not 
be  easy  at  first,  but  there  is  no  need  to  exaggerate  the 
difficulties.  It  is  true  that  the  king  has  esteem  for  the 
due  de  Choiseul,  but  he  has  much  affection  for  you, 
which  avails  much  more. 

"As  for  the  parliaments,  he  hates  them,  and  for  many 
years  has  been  desirous  of  ridding  himself  of  them  en- 
tirely, and  he  will  effect  this  by  the  help  of  God  and 
your  interference." 

<(This  will  be  hard  work  for  one  so  weak  as  I  am." 

<(  Oh,  yoii  are  sufficiently  powerful,  I  assure  you.  Only 
confide  in  me,  the  intermediary  between  you  and  my 
friends,  let  me  guide  you,  and  I  will  steer  to  the  right 
port.  What  do  you  think  of  this,  madame  ?  " 

<(Oh!  monsieur  le  due,  it  is  not  at  a  moment  that  we 
can  give  a  positive  reply  to  such  grave  matters.  I  con- 
tent myself  in  assuring  you,  that  I  have  for  you  as 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  39 

much  confidence  as  respect,  and  should  be  very  happy 
to  obtain  your  protection. * 

(<  My  protection !  Oh,  heaven,  madame,  you  are  jest- 
ing. It  is  I  who  should  be  honored  by  your  friendship.0 

(<  It  is  yours ;  but  as  yet  I  am  nothing  at  court,  and 
can  do  nothing  there  until  I  have  been  presented.  It  is 
for  my  speedy  presentation  that  my  friends  should  labor 
now. B 

(<We  will  not  fail,  madame;  and  if  you  will  allow  me 
to  come  from  time  to  time  to  converse  with  you,  we  can 
take  our  measures.® 

<(Your  visits  will  always  be  agreeable." 

Such  was  the  conversation  which  I  had  with  the  due  de 
la  Vauguyon.  I  have  given  it  somewhat  at  length,  be- 
cause it  was  the  preface  to  a  deep  intrigue  which  made 
a  vast  noise.  I  think  I  extricated  myself  very  well  from 
the  net  in  which  the  duke  sought  to  catch  me.  I  knew 
that  his  situation  at  Versailles  compelled  me  to  act  with 
caution  towards  him.  He  was  in  good  odor  with  mes- 
dames,  had  the  ear  of  the  young  dauphin  and  the  princes 
his  brothers.  He  deceived  me  like  a  true  Jesuit  as  he 
was,  in  telling  me  that  the  mesdames  were  well  disposed 
towards  me  ;  and  on  my  side  I  cheated  him  with  a 
promise  of  confidence  and  friendship  which  I  never  be- 
stowed. Ah !  my  friend,  again  and  again  must  I  exclaim, 
what  a  villainous  place  is  a  court! 

Whilst  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon  was  seeking  to  enlist 
me  under  the  banners  of  heaven  or  the  Jesuits,  the  mar- 
quis of  Chauvelin  also  essayed  to  make  me  his  pupil ;  but 
as  frank  as  he  was  amiable,  this  nobleman  did  not  go  to 
work  in  a  roundabout  manner.  He  came  to  me  loyally, 
requesting  me  to  consider  his  interests  and  mine. 

"The  king  likes  me,*  said  he,  "and  I  am  attached  to 
him  body  and  soul.  He  tenderly  loves  you,  and  I  should 
have  no  difficulty  in  doing  the  same  thing;  but  as  I  am 
no  longer  of  an  age  to  inspire  you  with  the  passion  which 
I  should  feel  towards  you,  I  content  myself  with  your 
friendship.  I  have  no  enemy  here,  and  no  wish  to  hurt 
any  person.  Thus  you  need  not  fear  that  I  shall  urge 
you  to  any  measures  that  might  compromise  you.  It  is 


40  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

the  hatred  of  the  kingdom  that  you  will  have  to  fear. 
France  is  about  to  march  in  a  better  track,  and  the  best 
plan  is  to  follow  its  lead.  It  pains  me,  madame,  to  use 
language  which  may  appear  severe  to  you  ;  we  ought 
only  to  talk  to  you  of  your  beauty  and  the  love  which  it 
inspires.  But  in  your  situation,  even  that  beauty  may 
serve  the  interests  of  France,  and  it  is  for  that  motive 
that  I  come  to  solicit  you.* 

I  replied  to  M.  de  Chauvelin  with  equal  frankness.  I 
told  him  that  my  sole  intentions  were  to  confine  myself 
to  the  circle  of  my  duties;  that  I  had  none  but  to  please 
the  king,  and  no  intention  of  mixing  myself  up  with 
state  affairs.  This  was  my  plan  I  can  assure  you.  I  flat- 
tered myself  that  I  could  follow  it,  not  dreaming  of  those 
political  nuisances  into  which  I  was  precipitated  in  spite 
of  myself.  I  added,  nevertheless,  that  in  my  situation, 
which  was  delicate,  I  would  not  refuse  the  counsels  of  a 
faithful  servant  of  the  king,  and  that  under  this  title  M. 
de  Chauvelin  should  be  consulted  on  important  occasions. 

The  marquis  de  Chauvelin  had  too  much  good  sense, 
too  much  knowledge  of  the  world,  not  to  perceive  a  re- 
fusal concealed  under  this  politeness.  The  secret  incli- 
nation of  my  heart  had  already  led  me  to  select  the  due 
d'Aiguillon  for  my  director,  and  I  could  not  reconcile 
myself  to  any  other.  He  contented  himself  with  asking 
me  again  for  my  friendship,  which  I  willingly  accorded 
him,  and  I  have  always  found  myself  fortunate  in  his. 
Thus  did  I  accept  the  offers  of  service  from  the  prince 
de  Soubise,  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon,  and  the  marquis 
de  Chauvelin. 

A  fourth  sought  to  swell  the  ranks;  the  comte,  after- 
wards prince,  de  Montbarrey.  This  gentleman  made  up 
in  pretensions  for  what  he  lacked  in  talent.  He  was 
weak,  self-important,  selfish,  fond  of  women,  and  endeav- 
ored to  preserve  all  the  airs  of  a  man  of  good  breeding 
in  the  midst  of  the  grossest  debauchery.  He  was  full  of 
respect  for  himself  and  his  house,  of  which  in  time  of 
need  he  could  cite  the  whole  genealogy.  His  nomination 
was  a  real  scandal;  no  one  dreamt  of  his  ever  being 
minister  of  war.  It  was  one  of  the  thousand  follies  of 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  41 

old  Maurepas,  whom  the  late  king  knew  well,  and  called 
the  ballad-maker  of  the  council. 

The  comte  de  Montbarrey,  whom  I  had  known  at  Paris, 
came  to  me  one  fine  day,  fully  powdered,  perfumed,  and 
apparelled.  He  had  a  smile  on  his  lip,  a  loud  tone,  and 
an  insolent  look.  He  came  not  to  ask  my  friendship,  but 
my  obedience.  He  told  me  that  he  loved  me  to  distrac- 
tion, and  of  course  my  head  must  be  equally  turned 
towards  him.  He  amused  me.  I  let  him  run  out  the 
full  length  of  his  line;  and  when  he  had  spun  it  all  out, 
I  said  to  him,  <(  Monsieur,  be  so  good  as  to  call  me  to  the 
recollection  of  madame  de  Merfort. w 

She  was  one  of  the  gambling  ladies,  and  at  her  house 
I  had  formerly  met  the  chevalier  de  Montbarrey.  My 
reply  confounded  him:  he  saw  that  he  had  gone  the 
wrong  way  to  work  with  me;  and,  raising  the  siege,  he 
left  me  excessively  embarrassed. 

Figure  to  yourself,  my  friend,  what  confidence  a  man, 
lost  in  the  crowd  of  lower  courtiers,  could  inspire  me 
with;  for  to  judge  of  the  proceedings  of  the  comte  de 
Montbarrey,  it  would  have  been  necessary  to  have  seen 
him  as  he  then  was,  and  not  what  he  became  since  the 
imbecility  of  M.  de  Maurepas.  When  I  told  comte  Jean 
of  his  visit,  he  would  not  believe  such  insolence.  You 
must  know  that  my  brother-in-law  also  wished  to  direct 
me,  but  I  did  not  consider  him  sufficiently  clever.  His 
marvellous  genius  was  eclipsed  in  politics.  He  swore  at 
my  ingratitude,  and  I  could  only  appease  him  by  an 
offering  of  plenty  of  money. 

In  the  midst  of  this  cross-fire  of  intrigues,  one  was  de- 
vised against  me  which  might  have  terminated  in  my 
ruin;  but,  thanks  to  the  indefatigable  activity  of  comte 
Jean,  only  served  to  fix  me  more  firmly  in  my  situation. 
Lebel,  of  whom  I  have  said  nothing  for  this  age,  came 
to  me  one  day:  his  face  was  sad,  and  his  look  serious. 
By  his  manner  I  augured  that  my  reign  had  passed,  and 
that  I  must  quit  my  post.  I  awaited  what  he  should  say 
with  mortal  impatience.  At  length  he  began  thus: 

(<  Madame,  you  have  many  bitter  enemies,  who  are 
laboring  to  effect  your  ruin  with  a  blood-thirstiness 


42  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

which  nothing  can  assuage.  They  have  now  spread  a 
report  that  you  are  not  married.  This  infamous  cal- 
umny —  w 

(<  Ah,  is  that  all  ? B  said  I  with  joy ;  <(  no,  my  dear 
Lebel,  this  time  they  do  not  calumniate  me.  The 
worthy  creatures  for  once  are  right. w 

<(  What, w  said  Lebel,  in  a  tone  of  alarm  almost  comic, 
*  what,  are  you  really  not  married  ?  " 

«No.)) 

<(Are  you  not  the  wife  of  the  comte  Guillaume  du 
Barry  ? » 

•No.* 

(<Then  you  have  deceived  the  king,  and  played  with 
me.» 

<(  Lebel,  my  friend,  take  another  tone.  No  one  has 
any  right  to  complain.  You  have  given  me  to  the  king 
as  a  person  to  please  him;  I  do  so.  The  rest  can  be  no 
matter  of  yours.* 

<(  Pardon  me,  madame ;  it  is  a  matter  of  the  greatest 
consequence  to  me.  I  am  terribly  compromised  in  this 
affair,  and  you  with  me." 

Lebel  told  me  that  the  duchesse  de  Grammont  had 
begged  him  to  call  upon  her,  and  had  bitterly  reproached 
him  about  the  mistress  he  had  procured  for  the  king: 
the  duchesse  affirmed  that  I  was  a  nameless  and  un- 
married creature;  and  added,  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
make  the  king  acquainted  with  these  particulars,  unless 
I,  the  pretended  wife  of  du  Barry,  would  consent  to  go  to 
England  when  a  large  pension  should  be  assured  to  me. 

<(  No,  my  dear  Lebel,  I  will  not  go  to  England ;  I  will 
remain  in  France,  at  Versailles,  at  the  chateau.  If  I  am 
not  married  I  will  be;  the  thing  is  easily  managed." 

Lebel  somewhat  assured,  begged  me  to  send  for  comte 
Jean,  and  when  he  came  he  (Lebel)  recommenced  his 
tale  of  grief. 

"You  are  drowning  yourself  in  a  glass  of  water,"  said 
my  future  brother-in-law  to  him,  beginning  to  treat  him 
with  less  ceremony;  <(go  back  to  the  duchesse  de  Gram- 
mont, and  tell  her  that  madame  was  married  at  Toulouse. 
She  will  have  an  inquiry  set  on  foot;  in  the  mean  while 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  43 

my  brother  will  arrive,  and  the  marriage  will  take  place. 
Then  we  will  show  the  rebels  a  real  comtesse  du  Barry; 
and  whether  my  sister-in-law  be  a  lady  of  six  months' 
standing  or  only  of  yesterday,  that  is  of  no  consequence 
to  the  king  of  France.* 

After  this  conversation  Lebel  delivered  the  message 
to  the  duchesse  de  Grammont,  who  told  him  that  she 
should  write  to  Toulouse  to  the  attorney-general.  This 
was  what  the  comte  Jean  wished  and  he  was  prepared 
for  her. 

But,  you  will  say  to  me,  was  it  certain  that  your  as- 
serted husband  would  marry  you?  Were  there  no 
difficulties  to  fear  ?  None.  Comte  Guillaume  was  poor, 
talented,  and  ambitious;  he  liked  high  living,  and  would 
have  sold  himself  to  the  devil  for  riches.  He  was  happy 
in  marrying  me.  Comte  Jean  would  not  have  ventured 
such  a  proposal  to  his.  other  brother,  the  comte  d'Hargi- 
court,  who  had  much  good  sense  and  great  notions  of 
propriety,  and  who  at  Versailles  was  called  the  honnete 
homme ;  a  distinction  not  over  flattering  to  his  two 
brothers. 

The  same  evening  the  whole  family  arrived,  and  was 
presented  to  me  the  next  day.  My  two  future  sisters- 
in-law  frightened  me  at  first  with  their  provincial  man- 
ners and  southern  accent;  but,  after  a  few  minutes,  I 
found  that  this  Gascon  pronunciation  had  many  charms 
with  it.  Mesdemoiselles  du  Barry  were  not  handsome  but 
very  agreeable.  One  was  called  Isabelle,  whom  they 
had  nicknamed  Bischi,  the  other's  name  was  Fanchon,  and 
her  name  had  been  abbreviated  to  Chon.  The  latter  had 
much  talent,  and  even  brought  to  Versailles  with 
her,  an  instinctive  spirit  of  diplomacy  which  would  have 
done  honor  to  a  practised  courtier.  She  would  have 
been  thought  simple,  unsophisticated,  and  yet  was  full 
of  plot  and  cunning. 

I  was  soon  much  pleased  with  her,  and  the  king  be- 
came equally  so.  He  was  always  very  much  amused  at 
hearing  her  talk  patois  (provincially),  or  recite  the  verses 
of  one  Gondouli,  a  poet  of  Languedoc.  He  used  to 
make  her  jiimp  upon  his  knees;  and  altho*  she  had 


44  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

passed  the  first  bloom  of  youth,  he  played  with  her  like 
a  child.  But  what  most  particularly  diverted  the  king, 
was  calling  my  sister-in-law  by  her  nickname;  <( Petite 
Chon,  grande  Chon, B  he  was  always  saying,  <(  do  this,  go 
there,  come  here.  *  Louis  XV.  did  the  same  with  his  own 
daughters:  he  had  amongst  them  a  Loque,  a  Graille,  a 
Chiffe,  and  they  were  the  ladies  Victoire,  Adelaide,  and 
Sophie,  whom  he  thus  elegantly  designated.  I  so  soon 
saw  the  taste  of  the  king  for  nicknames  that  I  gave  him 
one,  it  was  La f ranee.  So  far  from  being  angry  with  me, 
he  laughed  to  tears  every  time  that  I  called  him  so.  I 
must  confess,  en  passant,  that  the  anecdote  about  the 
coffee  is  true.*  I  will  only  justify  myself  by  saying, 
that  if  I  expressed  myself  coarsely  it  was  not  in  conse- 
quence of  my  vulgar  education,  but  because  the  king 
liked  such  modes  of  expression. 

Let  me  revert  to  my  marriage,  which  was  performed 
secretly  at  the  parish  of  Saint  Laurent.  I  believe  the 
king  knew  of  it,  altho'  he  never  alluded  to  it  any  more 
than  myself.  Thus  the  malice  of  my  enemies  was  com- 
pletely balked  in  this  affair.  Some  days  afterwards  comte 
Jean  received  a  letter  from  the  attorney-general  of  the 
parliament  of  Toulouse,  M.  the  marquis  de  Bonrepos- 
Riquet.  This  gentleman  informed  my  brother-in-law  that 
he  had  been  applied  to,  to  institute  an  inquiry  at  all  the 
notaries,  and  amongst  all  the  registers  of  the  parishes 
for  the  proof  of  my  marriage;  that  he  warned  us  to  be 
on  our  guard,  and  that  whatever  diligence  he  might  be 
desired  to  employ,  he  should  do  nothing  without  inform- 
ing us.  We  felt  the  obligation  of  this  proceeding,  and 
my  brother-in-law  thanked  the  attorney-general  in  my 
name  as  well  as  in  his  own.  He  told  him  that  it  was 
not  at  Toulouse  that  the  parties  interested  should  make 
their  researches  for  my  marriage  certificate,  but  at  Paris, 
either  at  the  parish  church  of  Saint  Laurent,  or  at  the 
notary's,  Lepot  d'Auteuil.  M.  de  Bonrepos  gave  part  of 
this  reply  to  the  duchesse  de  Grammont.  Great  was  the 

*  Louis  XV.  had  a  habit  of  making  his  own  coffee  after  dinner. 
One  day  the  coffee  boiled  over  the  sides  of  the  pot,  and  madame  du 
Barry  cried  out,  w  Eh,  Laf  ranee,  ton  caft  f  le 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  45 

bustle  amongst  the  Choiseuls!  I  leave  you  to  judge  of 
the  fury  of  the  lady  or  ladies,  for  the  comtesse  de 
Grammont  was  no  less  irritated  than  the  other,  always 
prepossessed  with  the  'idea,  that  to  please  the  king  was 
to  wrong  their  family.  The  comtesse  de  Grammont 
had  not  half  the  talent  of  the  duchesse,  she  had  only 
her  faults.  She  showed  herself  so  rude  and  impertinent 
towards  me,  that  I  was  at  length  compelled,  not  to  exile 
her  of  my  own  accord,  but  to  allow  that  she  should 
be  so  served.  But  I  anticipate,  for  this  did  not  occur 
until  the  following  year. 

The  king  by  all  his  kindnesses  endeavored  to  recompense 
me  for  these  attacks:  he  appeared  charmed  to  see  me 
surrounded  by  my  husband's  family.  He  placed  amongst 
the  pages  the  vicomte  Adolphe  du  Barry,  son  of  comte 
Jean,  a  young  man  of  great  promise,  but  whose  destiny 
was  so  brief  and  so  unfortunate.  My  husband's  family 
testified  much  affection  for  me,  as  did  the  due  d'Aiguil- 
lon,  to  whom  I  daily  attached  myself.  He  carefully 
kept  from  me  all  that  could  give  me  pain,  and  took  a 
thousand  precautions  that  no  unpleasant  reports  should 
reach  me.  If  we  passed  a  short  time  without  meeting 
he  wrote  to  me,  and  I  confess  I  was  delighted  with  a 
correspondence  which  formed  my  own  style.  Mademoi- 
selle Chon,  my  sister-in-law,  and  I  also  wrote  to  each 
other,  and  that  from  one  room  to  another.  I  remember 
that  one  day,  having  broken  a  glass  of  rock  crystal  which 
she  had  given  me,  I  announced  my  misfortune  in  such 
solemn  style,  and  with  so  well  feigned  a  tone  of  chagrin, 
that  the  letter  amused  the  whole  family.  The  king  saw 
it,  and  was  so  much  pleased  that  he  kept  it,  and  next 
day  sent  me  a  golden  goblet  enriched  with  stones,  which 
I  gave  to  Chon,  to  whom  it  rightfully  belonged. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Journey  to  Choisy  —  The  comtesse  du  Barry  and  Louis  XV.  —  The 
king  of  Denmark  —  The  czar  Peter — Frederick  II.  —  The  abb6 
de  la  Chapelle  —  An  experiment  —  New  intrigues  —  Secret  agents 
—  The  comtesse  and  Louis  XV. — Of  the  presentation  —  Letter  of 
the  comtesse  to  the  due  d'Aiguillon  —  Reply  —  Prince  de  Soubise. 

Up  TO  this  period  I  had  resided  constantly  at  Ver- 
sailles or  Paris,  according  to  the  pleasure  of  the  king, 
but  had  never  followed  his  majesty  in  any  of  his 
journeys.  He  wished  to  pass  some  days  at  his  delightful 
chateau  at  Choisy,  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine. 
It  was  decided  that  I  should  be  of  the  party,  taking  the 
name  of  the  baroness  de  Pamklek,  a  German  lady,  as 
that  would  save  me  from  the  embarrassment  in  which  I 
should  be  placed  with  the  king  in  consequence  of  my 
non-presentation.  The  prince  de  Soubise,  the  dues  de  la 
Trimoulle,  d'Ayen,  d'Aiguillon,  and  the  marquis  de 
Chauvelin,  were  also  to  attend  the  king.  The  king  re- 
mained nearly  the  whole  time  with  me,  and  the  entree  to 
my  apartment  became  a  favor  not  accorded  to  every 
body.  A  small  committee  met  there,  and  talked  of 
every  thing  except  what  is  rational ;  and  I  can  assure  you 
that  with  such  conversation  time  passes  very  quickly. 

One  day  the  king  entered  my  apartment  holding  in  his 
hand  a  letter. 

*  I  am  about  to  receive, w  said  he,  w  a  visit  that  will  not 
give  me  much  pleasure.  My  brother  of  Denmark  is 
traversing  Europe,  and  is  about  to  come  to  France. 
Mon  Dieu!  what  inconvenient  persons  are  your  travelling 
kings !  Why  do  they  leave  their  kingdoms  ?  I  think 
they  are  very  well  at  home.* 

"Yes,  sire,  but  there  is  an  excuse  for   them:   they  are 
weary  of   admiring  your  majesty  at  a  distance,  and  wish 
for  the  happiness  of  knowing  you." 
(46) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  47 

At  this  compliment  the  king  rubbed  his  hands  with  a 
smile,  which  he  always  did  when  he  was  satisfied,  and 
then  said, 

"There  is  not  in  the  hearts  of  foreign  potentates  the 
same  affection  towards  my  person  as  you  feel.  It  is  not 
me  but  France  they  wish  to  see.  I  remember  that  when 
very  young  I  received  a  visit  from  the  czar  Peter  the 
Great,  Peter  the  First  I  mean  to  say.  He  was  not  defi- 
cient in  sense,  but  yet  behaved  like  a  boor:  he  passed 
his  time  in  running  over  the  academies,  libraries,  and 
manufactories :  I  never  saw  such  an  ill-bred  man.  Imag- 
ine him  embracing  me  at  our  first  interview,  and  carry- 
ing me  in  his  arms  as  one  of  my  valets  would  have 
done.  He  was  dirty,  coarse,  and  ill-dressed.  Well,  all  the 
Frenchmen  ran  after  him;  one  would  have  supposed  by 
their  eagerness  that  they  had  never  seen  a  regal  counte- 
nance." 

*  Yet  there  was  no  occasion  to  run  very  far  to  see  the 
handsome  face  of  a  king.* 

(<  Hold  your  tongue,  madame  la  baronne  de  Pamklek, 
you  are  a  flatterer.  There  is  a  crowned  head  which  for 
thirty  years  has  desired  to  visit  France,  but  I  have  al- 
ways turned  a  deaf  ear,  and  will  resist  it  as  long  as 
possible.  * 

w  Who,  sire,  is  the  king  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  ban- 
ished by  you  from  your  majesty's  presence  ? * 

(<  Who  ?  The  king  of  philosophers,  the  rival  of  Voltaire, 
my  brother  of  Prussia.  Ah,  my  dear  baronne,  he  is  a 
bad  fellow;  he  detests  me,  and  I  have  no  love  for  him. 
A  king  does  wisely,  .certainly,  to  submit  his  works  to 
the  judgment  of  a  Freron!  It  would  be  outrageous 
scandal  if  he  came  here.  Great  and  small  would  crowd 
around  him,  and  there  would  not  be  twenty  persons  in 
my  train.* 

*  Ah !   sire,  do  you  think  so  ? * 

w  I  am  sure  of  it.  The  French  now-a-days  do  not  care 
for  their  kings,  and  la  Fronde  will  be  renewed  at  an 
early  day.  After  all,  philosophers  believe  that  Frederick 
II.  protects  them:  the  honest  man  laughs  both  at  them 
and  me.* 


48  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

<(  At  you,  sire  ?  Impossible. w 

"No,  no;  I  know  the  impertinences  he  is  guilty  of 
towards  me:  but  let  him.  I  prefer  making  my  court  to 
the  pretty  women  of  my  kingdom  instead  of  to  my  pages. 
You  may  depend  upon  it  that  if  he  came  to  Versailles 
he  would  debauch  some  of  them.* 

The  king,  charmed  at  having  said  this  malicious  speech, 
rubbed  his  hands  again. 

(<  Really,  sire,  *  I  replied,  *  I  am  astonished  that  this 
prince,  having  such  disgusting  inclinations,  can  have 
much  falat  attached  to  his  name.* 

<(  Ah,  that  is  because  he  has  great  qualities :  he  will 
not  allow  himself  to  be  cheated.  Do  you  know  that  he 
is  acquainted  with  the  disposal  of  his  finances  to  the  last 
farthing  ? * 

*Sire,  he  must  be  a  miser." 

*  No,  madame,  he  is  a  man  of  method.  But  enough  of 
him.  As  to  his  majesty  of  Denmark,  altho'  he  would 
have  been  as  welcome  to  stay  at  home,  I  shall  receive 
him  with  as  much  attention  as  possible.  The  kings  of 
Denmark  and  Sweden  are  my  natural  allies.* 

The  king  changed  the  subject,  and  said,  "There  is  an 
abb£,  named  la  Chapelle,  whom  I  think  half  cracked. 
He  natters  himself  that  he  can,  thro'  the  medium  of 
some  apparatus,  remain  on  the  water  without  sinking. 
He  begs  my  permission  to  exhibit  his  experiment  before 
me;  and  if  it  would  amuse  you,  we  will  have  the  exhi- 
bition tomorrow.  *  I  accepted  the  king's  proposal  with 
pleasure. 

On  the  next  day  we  went  in  a  body  to  the  terrace  of 
the  chateau.  The  king  was  near  me  with  his  hat  in  his 
hand;  the  due  de  Duras  gave  me  his  arm.  M.  1'abbe* 
awaited  us  in  a  boat:  he  flung  himself  bodily  into  the 
water,  dressed  in  a  sort  of  cork- jacket,  moved  in  any  direc- 
tion in  the  water,  drank,  ate,  and  fired  off  a  gun.  So  far 
all  went  off  well,  but  the  poor  abbe",  to  close  the  affair, 
wrote  a  letter  to  the  king.  The  letter  was  carried  in 
great  pomp  to  his  majesty.  It  contained  two  verses  of 
Racine,  which  had  some  double  allusion  to  the  experi- 
ment. This,  you  may  be  sure,  was  interpreted  in  the 


^  MONSIEUR,  I  HAVE  ENEMIES  ENOUGH  AT 
COURT  WITHOUT  YOU.  WON'T  YOU  TELL 
ME  HOW  I  CAN  WIN  YOUR  FRIENDSHIP?* 


By  courtesy  of  Mr.  David  Belasco  and  Mrs.  I^eslie 
Carter.  This  scene  is  from  David  Belaseo's  play, 
Du  Barry,  played  at  Belasco's  Theatre,  New  York,' 
•with  Mrs.  Leslie  Carter  as  I*  Du  Barry. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  49 

worst  manner.  The  due  d'Ayen  gave  the  finishing  stroke 
to  the  whole,  on  his  opinion  being  asked  by  the  king. 

<(  Sire, w  said  he,  (<  such  men  ought  to  be  thrown  into 
the  water;  but  all  we  can  wish  for  them  is,  that  they 
should  remain  there.* 

The  abbe"  was  not  more  fortunate  in  the  evening.  He 
presented  himself  at  supper,  but  the  king  did  not  address 
a  word  to  him,  and  he  was  compelled  to  bear  the  ma- 
licious jokes  of  the  courtiers.  But  let  us  leave  Choisy  and 
the  experimentalist,  and  return  to  Versailles  and  myself. 

My  friends  were  excessively  desirous  for  my  presenta- 
tion, which  would  decide  my  position  at  the  chateau.  As 
yet  I  only  had  an  equivocal  existence,  having  rank  neither 
at  play,  theatre,  or  public  festival;  so  that  if  the  king 
should  be  capricious  I  could  be  dismissed  as  one  of  the 
demoiselles  of  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs.  The  due  d'Aiguillon, 
whose  attachment  to  me  increased,  calculated  accurately 
all  the  advantages  of  this  presentation.  It  would  place 
me  on  the  same  footing  with  madame  de  Pompadour, 
and  compel  the  ministers  to  come  and  work  with  me. 
The  duke  did  not  doubt  but  that  M.  de  Choiseul  would 
refuse  to  pay  his  devoirs  to  me,  and  that  his  resistance 
would  lead  to  his  fall.  But  for  my  presentation,  it  was 
necessary  not  only  that  the  king  should  consent,  for  of 
that  I  was  certain,  but  that  he  should  desire  it,  and  his 
desire  could  not  be  depended  on. 

Louis  XV.  was  excessively  timid:  with  an  air  which 
appeared  of  a  dreadnaught  quality,  he  was  fearful  at 
heart.  The  clamors  of  Versailles  kept  him  in  alarm ;  and 
he  kept  at  his  own  court  and  at  foreign  courts  secret 
agents,  whose  only  care  was  to  report  to  him  the  com- 
plaints of  the  people  and  the  sarcasms  and  satires  of 
society.  The  king  was  attached  to  them;  and  when  the 
force  of  circumstances  compelled  him  to  abandon  them, 
he  still  supported  them  clandestinely  with  all  his  power. 
A  proof  of  what  I  advance  may  be  known  as  regards 
the  chevalier  or  chevaliere  d'Eon,  I  know  not  which. 
But  these  secret  agents  were,  unknown  to  the  king,  all 
devoted  to  the  parliaments,  and  consequently  inimical  to 
courtiers,  favorites,  and  especially  mistresses.  God  knows 
4 


So  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE    VAUBERNIER 

how  they  disposed  of  us !  By  these  unpropitious  channels 
the  king  had  learnt  all  the  hatred  which  was  borne  to 
madame  de  Pompadour.  He  was  afraid  of  exciting  the 
discontent  of  the  people  by  announcing  another  mistress, 
and  was  no  less  intimidated  at  the  severity  of  madame 
Louise,  and  the  ill-humor  of  his  other  children.  He  loved 
his  pleasure  much,  but  his  ease  more. 

Comte  Jean,  who  was  restrained  by  no  considerations, 
advised  me  to  overlap  all  difficulty,  by  asking  the  king 
myself  for  the  favor  which  I  coveted.  His  advice  seemed 
rational,  and  I  was  besides  urged  on  to  do  so.  Each  day 
brought  to  me  impertinences  said  of  me  by  the  noble 
ladies  of  the  chateau.  I  learnt  that  they  boasted  that  I 
should  never  set  foot  in  the  great  apartments,  but  should 
remain  the  obscure  mistress  of  the  king.  This  made  me 
impatient,  and  by  degrees  deprived  me  of  my  natural 
gaiety. 

One  day  when  the  king  was  with  me,  he  perceived  my 
want  of  spirits. 

<(What  ails  you?*  said  he,  with  the  greatest  solicitude. 

(<  What  ails  me ! *  replied  I,  <(  I  wish  I  were  dead, 
rather  than  see  myself  the  butt  of  all  the  scandal  of  the 
foul-mouthed  gossips  of  your  court." 

The  king,  suspecting  the  confidence  I  was  about  to  re- 
pose in  him,  was  sorry  he  had  asked  for  it,  and  was 
silent.  He  began  to  play  a  tattoo  with  his  fingers  on 
the  chimney-piece.  At  this  moment  mademoiselle  Chon 
came  in.  The  king,  delighted  at  seeing  her,  instantly 
inquired  into  her  state  of  health.  She,  after  a  profound 
reverence,  said,  • 

"Sire,  how  can  I  be  well  when  there  is  trouble  in  my 
family? » 

wAh,  ban  Dieu!  what  is  this?*  said  he,  turning  to  me. 

(<I  am  insulted,  hooted:  they  say  that  I  have  the 
misfortune  to  be  no  longer  in  the  good  graces  of  your 
majesty.* 

wAh,  tell  them  they  lie  in  their  throats,  *  replied  the 
king,  kissing  me  on  the  forehead;  "you  are  the  woman 
of  my  heart,  and  she  whom  I  would  fain  load  with 
honors.  * 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  51 

(<  Your  majesty  speaks  to  me, "  I  answered,  (<  with  great 
condescension  [my  sister-in-law  left  the  room  that  she 
might  not  spoil  the  explanation],  but  yet  you  are  the 
cause  of  the  insolences  which  I  am  subjected  to  from 
the  vile  crew." 

<(  What  is  the  matter  with  you  to-day  ?  In  truth  you 
are  a  perfect  little  devil." 

(<  I  wish  I  were,  that  I  might  punish  evil  tongues,  since 
there  is  no  king  of  France  to  avenge  me." 

(<You  are  severe,  madame,"  replied  Louis  XV.,  turning 
his  imposing  and  handsome  face  towards  me,  and  to 
which  he  vainly  endeavored  to  give  an  air  of  anger.  I 
saw  my  success,  and  added, 

(<  Yes,  sire,  it  is  insupportable  for  me  to  think  that  I  am 
supposed  not  to  possess  your  friendship,  and  that  I  only 
play  the  part  of  a  temporary  friend.  It  makes  me 
wretched:  you  must  not  be  angry  if  I  complain  of  you 
to  your  royal  self." 

<(  Well,  well,  you  madcap,  what  must  I  do  ?  whom  must 
I  banish  ? " 

<(  Oh,  sire,  no  one :  with  your  august  support  I  fear  no 
person;  nothing  but  appearances." 

<(You  are  an  excellent  creature;  in  your  place  madame 
de  Pompadour  would  have  imprisoned  half  France." 

<(  That  was  because  she  loved  revenge  better  than  she 
loved  your  majesty.  As  for  me,  I  should  be  miserable 
if  I  were  the  cause  of  one  single  family  complaining 
against  you." 

The  king  delighted  at  these  words,  which  really  came 
from,  my  heart,  embraced  me  tenderly  two  or  three 
times,  and  said, 

<(  I  wish  your  enemies  could  understand  you,  for  the)7 
would  soon  be  at  your  knees.  But  if  we  imprison  or 
exile  no  person,  how  shall  we  strike  terror  into  them  ? J' 

<(  It  is  not  terror  but  envy  that  I  would  excite.  Let 
me  be  presented  at  court,  and  all  my  wishes  will  be 
satisfied. " 

<(  I  cannot  for  the  life  of  me  divine  why  you  should 
lay  so  much  stress  on  coming  to  weary  yourself  with  the 
ceremonies  of  myself  and  daughters.  Heaven  preserve 


52  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

you  from  all  the  irksomeness  of  court  ceremony ! "  And 
Louis  XV.  sighed.  <(  Did  you  ever  think,  *  he  added, 
<(lof  all  the  vanities,  all  the  interests  I  have  to  manage; 
all  the  intrigues  that  are  perpetually  agitating,  and  all 
the  opposition  made  to  me?  The  court,  the  city,  the 
people,  will  rise  against  me:  they  will  clamor,  groan, 
complain;  verse,  prose,  epigram,  and  pamphlet  will  ap- 
pear in  uninterrupted  succession.  You  would  be  first 
attacked,  and  hatred  will  perhaps  extend  to  me.  I  shall 
see  again  the  times  when  the  Damiens,  in  the  name  of 
the  parliaments,  as  one  party  says,  in  the  name  of  the 
Jesuits,  as  the  other  party  says,  and,  what  is  more  true, 
in  the  name  —  " 

The  king  suddenly  paused ;  a  deep  shade  of  melancholy 
settled  on  his  features,  his  noble  head  dropped  on  his 
bosom.  Louis  XV.  remained  for  some  time  motionless ; 
at  length, 

"Well,"  he  exclaimed,  attempting  to  force  a  smile, 
w  well !  I  will  write  to  the  ladies  de  Grammont,  to  inform 
them  that  they  need  not  give  themselves  the  trouble  to 
remain  near  me  at  the  chateau." 

On  his  saying  these  words  I  darted  towards  the  door, 
and  went  into  my  chamber.  The  king  followed,  and  find- 
ing there  mademoiselle  Chon,  who  was  working  at  some 
tapestry,  said  to  her, 

<(  Mademoiselle,  I  confide  to  your  care,  and  by  oral 
lettre  de  cachet,  the  most  amiable  little  devil  in  France. 
And  now,  mademoiselle  du  Barry,  having  nothing  further 
to  add,  I  pray  God  to  take  you  to  His  powerful  and 
holy  keeping."  , 

After  this  pleasantry  the  king,  delighted  at  the  gay 
termination  of  a  somewhat  serious  scene,  went,  or  rather 
vanished;  for  to  use  a  proverbial  expression,  he  ran  like 
a  thief. 

As  soon  as  I  was  alone  with  my  sister-in-law,  I  told 
her  all  that  had  passed. 

<(  I  see, w  said  she,  <(  that  the  king  is  fearful  of  offending 
the  due  de  Choiseul,  and  giving  annoyance  to  his 
daughters.  But  a  step  must  be  determined  on  which 
will  place  you  out  of  the  reach  of  complete  disgrace. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  53 

Would  it  not  be  best  to  get  some  nobleman,  who  can  do 
so  with  influence,  to  speak  to  him  on  the  subject  ?  If 
the  due  de  Richelieu  were  here  — }> 

(<  But, w  I  instantly  exclaimed,  (<  have  we  not  his 
nephew,  the  due  d'Aiguillon  ?  He  is  well  with  the  king, 
and  I  am  certain  will  take  the  most  lively  interest  in  all 
that  concerns  me." 

<(I  have  no  doubt  of  it,*  said  Chon,  with  a  sly  look. 
<(  Write  to  him  to  come,  and  you  can  arrange  your 
ulterior  proceedings.  * 

On  this  advice,  which  was  quite  to  my  taste,  I  went 
instantly  to  my  writing-table,  the  last  present  which  the 
king  had  made  me.  It  was  made  of  silver  gilt,  and  china 
slabs  beautifully  painted.  When  I  opened  it,  a  glass  was 
lifted  which  reflected  my  countenance.  I  sat  down  and 
wrote  the  following  note  to  the  due  d'Aiguillon:  — 

«You  must  be  content.  I  want  your  assistance,  I  really  want  it. 
The  moment  has  come  for  deserving  all  my  confidence.  Will  you 
have  it  at  all  risks  and  perils?  Reflect  well  before  you  undertake  this: 
if  you  accept,  come  to-day  at  five  o'clock  precisely,  neither  later  nor 
sooner.8 

A  little  while  afterwards  the  following  reply  was  brought. 

« One  thing  displeases  me  in  your  letter  which  else  enchants  me. 
You  appear  to  doubt  my  obedience.  Am  I  not  your  slave?  And 
when  you  say  to  me  go,  will  I  not  go  f  Rely  on  me  as  on  yourself ; 
even  more:  for  your  vivacity  may  lead  you  into  error,  and  I  shall 
preserve  my  reason.  Yes,  madame,  I  will,  when  near  you,  preserve 
my  reason  when  your  interests  are  at  stake.  At  the  fixed  hour  I 
shall  have  the  honor  to  lay  at  your  feet  my  respectful  homage  and 
boundless  devotion. » 

It  was  impossible  to  express  a  real  sentiment  with 
more  delicacy.  I  was  charmed  at  it,  no  longer  doubting 
that  the  duke  would  consider  my  interests  as  his  own.  I 
awaited  the  hour  of  five  with  impatience,  when  my  good 
fortune  brought  the  prince  de  Soubise.  After  the  first 
compliments, 

"Well,  madame  la  comtesse,  when  is  your  presentation 
to  take  place  ?  w 

<(  I  do  not  know,  monsieur  le   mare'chal ;   there    are  ob 


54  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

stacles  in  the  way.  I  fear  that  they  who  wish  to  injure 
me  abuse  their  influence  with  the  king." 

(<  I  see  that  his  majesty  hesitates,  altho'  he  is  desirous 
of  giving  you  station.  He  must  be  stimulated  to  know 
that  he  is  master;  and  that  if  he  shows  any  wavering  in 
this  particular,  it  will  be  made  use  of  to  govern  him 
hereafter. " 

Heartily  did  I  applaud  the  language  of  M.  de  'Soubise: 
I  did  not  suspect  that  the  dear  prince  had  another  mo- 
tive behind.  At  the  end  of  the  interview  he  said, 

<(  Madame,  you  would  not  have  been  as  you  now  are 
had  you  been  more  conciliatory  towards  me.  I  know  the 
king,  and  know  how  to  manage  him.  I  flatter  myself 
that  you  would  have  been  now  presented  had  you  deigned 
to  hear  my  advice.* 

<(  Did  I  reject  it  ?  Was  I  wrong  in  declining  to  have 
mademoiselle  Guimard  as  ambassadress?  Were  you  as- 
sured of  her  silence?  Might  she  not  have  compromised 
us?" 

"  You  are  right ;  I  did  as  one  would  have  done  at  your 
age,  and  you  have  done  as  I  should  do  at  mine;  but 
there  is  always  time  to  amend." 

<(  Certainly,  prince. " 

"You  accept  my  advice,  then." 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  seeing  the  defile  in  which  he  wished 
to  entrap  me,  "yes,  if  I  am  presented  thro'  your  influ- 
ence, from  that  moment  you  become  my  guide  and 
mentor.  But  it  is  important  that  the  presentation  be 
not  delayed;  I  rely  on  you  to  speak  to  the  king  this  day 
about  it ;  and  I  know  that  he  will  give  me  every  particu- 
lar of  the  immense  service  you  will  render  me." 

For  once  the  madcap  girl  got  the  better  of  the  prac- 
tised courtier.  M.  de  Soubise,  taken  in  his  own  snare, 
politely  excused  himself,  and  left  me  with  an  assurance 
that  he  would  speak  to  the  king.  He  did  speak,  but  ob- 
tained nothing  more  than  any  other.  You  will  see  in 
my  next  letter  that  I  did  not  arrive  at  the  accomplish- 
ment of  my  wishes  without  much  trouble.  There  were 
in  this  affair  more  intrigues  for  and  against  me  than  were 
afterwards  set  on  foot  to  decide  war  with  America. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  comtesse   and  the  due  d'Aiguillon  —  M.  de  Soubise  —  Louis  XV. 
and    the    due    d'Aiguillon  —  Letter   from   the  comtesse  to  the  king 

—  Answer  of  the  king — The  «  Nouvelles  &  la  Main? — The  com- 
tesse  and   Louis  XV. — The   supper  —  The  court   ladies   mystified 

—  The  comtesse  and  M.  de  Sartines. 

I  WAS  still  triumphing  at  the  skill  which  I  had  displayed 
in  my  conference  with  the  prince  de  Soubise  when 
the  due  d'Aiguillon  entered. 

"Good  heaven, M  said  he,  kissing  my  hand  very  ten- 
derly, (<into  what  inquietude  did  you  throw  me  by  your 
dear  and  cruel  letter.  The  ambiguity  of  your  style  has 
caused  me  inexpressible  sorrow;  and  you  have  added  to 
it  by  not  allowing  me  to  come  to  you  at  the  first  mo- 
ment. w 

(<  I  could  not :  I  thought  it  would  be  dangerous  for  you 
to  appear  before  the  king  previously  to  having  seen  me.8 

<(  Would  the  king  have  thought  my  visit  strange  ?  * 
asked  the  duke,  not  without  some  emotion. 

<(  That  is  not  the  point.  The  black  spite  of  my  ene- 
mies has  not  yet  deprived  me  of  the  counsels  of  a  friend. 
But  as  it  is  necessary  to  speak  to  the  king  in  my  favor, 
I  wish  that  he  should  not  know  that  you  do  so  at  my 
request.* 

After  this  I  related  to  the  duke  my  conversation  with 
the  king. 

<(  Your  situation  is  delicate, w  said  he  to  me,  (<  but  it 
should  not  trouble  you.  The  king  is  weak,  we  must  give 
him  courage.  It  is  his  pliancy  of  disposition  rather  than 
his  resistance  that  we  must  contend  with,  and  I  go  to 
act  upon  it.* 

I  then  instructed  the  duke  with  what  had  passed  be- 
tween me  and  the  prince  de  Soubise.  When  I  had  done, 
the  duke  replied  : 

(55) 


56  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

(<  Expect  nothing  from  the  prince  de  Soubise :  he  will 
speak,  no  doubt ;  but  how  ?  In  a  jesting,  laughing  way. 
If,  however,  you  think  he  can  at  all  serve  you,  give  him 
all  your  confidence." 

<(  No,  no,  never, "  I  replied  with  quickness ;  w  it  is  not 
a  thing  to  be  done  lightly;  we  do  not  select  a  confidant, 
counsellor,  or  friend,  at  random.  Do  you  not  know  this, 
M.  le  due  ?  It  is  requisite  that  the  heart  of  the  one  who 
speaks  should  repose  itself  on  the  heart  of  the  friend 
who  listens.  I  repeat  to  you  that  I  have  no  feeling  of 
confidence  towards  M.  de  Soubise.  In  fact,*  I  added 
with  visible  and  troubled  emotion,  <(my  choice  is  made, 
and  you  have  too  much  heroism  to  wish  to  combat  it." 

At  these  flattering  words  the  duke  precipitated  himself 
at  my  feet,  and  swore  to  support  my  cause  with  all  his 
power  and  interest.  I  replied  that  I  fully  relied  on  his 
devotion  and  prudence.  Comte  Jean  entered,  and  it  was 
agreed  between  us  three  that  I  should  say  no  more  to 
the  king  of  my  presentation  before  the  due  d'Aiguillon 
had  spoken  to  him  of  it;  that  I  should  content  myself 
with  complaining  without  peevishness,  and  that  we  should 
leave  the  opening  measure  to  the  prince  de  Soubise,  and 
let  him  break  the  ice  to  his  majesty. 

The  prince  de  Soubise  behaved  exactly  as  the  duke  had 
told  me:  he  came  to  me  the  next  morning  with  a  mys- 
terious air,  which  already  informed  me  of  all  he  had  to 
say.  He  said  that  he  had  vainly  tormented  the  king; 
that  his  majesty  wished  things  to  remain  just  as  they 
were,  and  desired  that  until  a  new  order  of  things  noth- 
ing should  be  altered. 

<(  I  am  sorry  for  it,  monsieur  le  mare'chal, "  I  replied. 
<(  Whilst  I  am  in  this  precarious  situation,  whilst  I  remain 
in  a  corner  of  the  stage  as  a  confidante  of  tragedy,  I  can 
do  nothing  for  my  friends,  particularly  for  you,  monsieur 
le  mare'chal." 

<(  On  the  contrary,  madame, "  he  replied,  (<  the  king  will 
be  more  disposed  to  listen  to  you  whilst  he  will  suppose 
that  your  influence  is  unknown." 

(<  Oh, "  cried  I  with  a  feeling  of  anger,  c<  you  gentlemen 
courtiers  think  of  nothing  but  politics.  As  for  me,  who 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  57 

am  a  woman,  I  have  other  matters  for  consideration:  I 
must  have  honors,  title,  rank.  My  self-love  suffers  cruelly 
when  I  see  myself  immolated  by  the  fear  which  the  ladies 
de  Grammont  and  three  or  four  other  intriguers  of  their 
party  are  able  to  excite." 

The  prince  was  somewhat  startled  at  the  freedom  of 
language  which  I  used  towards  ladies  in  such  credit  at 
court:  he  begged  me  to  moderate  my  feelings,  and  be 
less  moved  and  excited.  By  this  the  prince  de  Soubise 
lost  the  esteem  which  I  might  have  accorded  him,  and 
the  second  place  in  my  counsels,  which  I  might  have 
given  him. 

I  told  the  duke,  who  came  to  see  me  the  moment 
afterwards,  of  the  failure  of  the  prince's  attempt.  He  told 
me  that  he  had  not  hoped  for  a  better  result.  He  went 
to  the  king,  nattering  himself  with  hopes  of  better  suc- 
cess, but  did  not  find  him. 

The  daughters  of  Louis  XV.  had  united  against  me  with 
a  fury  which  nothing  could  justify.  They  were  inces- 
santly talking  scandal  of  my  past  life,  as  if  there  were 
only  saints  at  court,  as  if  they  had  no  pranks  of  their 
own  to  reproach  themselves  with.  All  the  chateau  knew 
of  their  lovers,  and  there  was  living  evidence  of  the 
tenderness  of  madame  Adelaide:  as  for  madame  Louise 
she  was  an  angel  upon  earth,  and  was  the  only  one  who 
did  not  join  in  the  cry  against  me.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  king,  whilst  he  had  but  little  love  for  his  dear  daugh- 
ters, preserved  towards  them  a  complaisance  and  external 
appearance  of  kindness  which  was  a  substitute  for  pa- 
rental love.  When  mesdames  royafes  cried  out,  he  stopped 
his  ears  with  his  two'  hands,  and  seemed,  whilst  looking 
proudly  at  France,  to  say, '  (<  Am  not  I  a  good  father, 
and  are  not  my  daughters  very  happy,  for  I  let  them 
cry  out  with  all  their  might  ?  ® 

The  next  day  the  due  d'Aiguillon  went  again  to  the 
king,  and  found  him  bewildered  with  family  scenes  and 
the  murmurings  of  the  Choiseuls.  When  my  ambassador 
had  delivered  his  message,  the  king  asked  him  if  he,  as 
well  as  the  prince  de  Soubise,  had  been  set  upon  his 
haunches  by  me. 


58  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

The  duke,  nothing  intimidated  at  this,  told  the  king 
that  far  from  having  wished  that  he  should  be  my  inter- 
preter, I  had  requested  him  not  to  allude  to  the  matter. 

<(  Why,  then, }>  said  Louis  XV.  laughing,  <(  do  you  not 
follow  the  advice  of  the  comtesse  ? w 

(<  Because  I  entertain  a  sincere  attachment  for  her,  and 
that  I  am  vexed  to  hear  it  said  that  there  are  persons 
who  lead  your  majesty. w 

w  Who  are  the  insolents  that  hold  such  language  ?  * 

<(  They  surround  you,  sire.  There  is  not  a  female 
here  but  affirms  that  you  dare  not  decide  on  the  presen- 
tation of  the  comtesse." 

(<  I  alone  am  master,  and  will  let  them  know  it  when 
the  opportunity  arrives ;  but  the '  present  moment  is  not 
fitting.  The  comtesse  knows  how  well  I  love  her;  and 
if  she  will  prove  her  friendship  towards  me,  she  will  re- 
main quiet  for  some  time. " 

The  duke  thought  it  best  to  be  silent,  and  came  to 
me.  After  relating  the  conversation,  he  added,  (<  Do  not 
appear  at  all  dejected;  the  king  would  not  then  visit 
you  lest  he  should  find  you  out  of  temper.  Were  I  you 
I  should  write  to  him;  a  word  of  peace  would  set  him 
at  ease.* 

I  approved  this  advice,  and  instantly  penned  the  fol- 
lowing letter:  — 

<(Sire — They  tell  me  that  your  majesty  has  been  tormented  on  my 
account.  It  is  a  treason  of  which  I  alone  could  believe  myself  capa- 
ble. But  why  should  I  complain  ?  You  have  done  so  much  for  me 
that  I  ought  to  esteem  myself  happy:  your  august  friendship  con- 
soles me  thro'  all  my  annoyances.  Be  assured  that  henceforth  I  shall 
pout  no  more;  I  will  be  the  best  sheep  in  the  world,  relying  on  my 
shepherd  for  not  having  my  fleece  cut  too  closely;  for  after  all  I 
think  I  am  the  petted  ewe,  etc.* 

A  short  time  afterwards  a  page  brought  me  a  splendid 
box  of  bonbons  with  a  pair  of  ruby  ear-rings  surrounded 
with  diamonds,  and  this  short  billet:  — 

<(Yes,  assuredly  you  are  my  pet  ewe,  and  always  shall  be.  The 
shepherd  has  a  strong  crook  with  which  he  will  drive  away  those 
who  would  injure  you.  Rely  on  your  shepherd  for  the  care  of  your 
tranquillity,  and  the  peace  of  your  future  life.8 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  59 

In  the  evening  the  king  visited  me.  He  was  em- 
barrassed, but  I  set  him  at  ease  by  showing  him  a 
laughing  countenance,  talking  only  of  his  present,  which 
I  had  in  my  ears,  and  shaking  my  head  about  to  keep 
the  drops  in  motion,  which  sparkled  with  great  brilliancy. 
He  was  pleased  at  this,  and  did  not  leave  me  all  the 
evening.  In  the  morning  we  were  the  best  friends  in 
the  world. 

Some  days  elapsed,  when  comte  Jean  came-  to  me, 
bringing  two  infamous  articles  which  had  appeared  in 
the  <( Nouvelles  &  la  Main*  and  were  directed  against 
me.  They  were  atrocious  and  deeply  chagrined  me:  I 
placed  them  on  the  mantel-piece,  where  all  who  came 
in  could  see  them.  The  due  de  Duras  read  them,  and 
said,  (<  Conceal  these  atrocities  from  the  king. * 

(<  No,  *  was  my  reply,  (<  I  wish  him  to  read  them,  that 
he  may  know  how  his  affections  are  respected,  and  how 
the  police  of  Paris  are  employed  in  doing  their  duty  to 
the  throne.* 

These  last  words  annoyed  M.  de  Duras,  between  whom 
and  M.  de  Sartines  there  was  a  connection:  the  duke 
was  indebted  to  the  lieutenant-general  of  police  for  the 
special  surveillance  which  he  kept  over  a  young  girl  of 
whom  he,  the  due  de  Duras,  was  foolishly  enamoured. 
Trembling  for  his  dear  friend  M.  de  Sartines,  he  wrote 
to  him  in  haste,  but  had  not  courage  or  talent  enough  to 
undertake  the  defence  of  the  guilty  person. 

The  king  came  as  usual;  his  general  station  was  at 
the  chimney-piece,  where  he  amused  himself  with  look- 
ing at  the  baubles  that  ornamented  it.  The  w  Nouvelles 
a  la  Main*  fell  in  his  way.  He  read  them  once,  then 
again;  then,  without  uttering  a  word,  threw  them  into 
the  fire.  I  observed  him,  and  saw  that  he  was  full  of 
emotion  which  he  sought  to  conceal,  but  the  anger  burst 
forth  soon.  The  prince  de  Soubise,  who  supped  with  us 
that  evening,  asked  the  due  de  Duras  if  he  had  read  the 
(<  Gazette  de  France* 

(<  No, w  was  the  reply ;    <(  I  seldom  read   such  nonsense. w 

"And  you  are  quite  right,8  said  the  king.  "There  is 
at  present  a  most  inconceivable  mania  for  writing.  What 


60  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

is  the  use,  I  ask  you,  gentlemen,  of  this  deluge  of  books 
and  pamphlets  with  which  France  is  inundated?  They 
only  contain  the  spirit  of  rebellion:  the  freedom  of  writ- 
ing ought  not  to  be  given  to  every  body.  There  should 
be  in  a  well-regulated  state  seven  or  eight  writers,  not 
more;  and  these  under  the  inspection  of  government. 
Authors  are  the  plague  of  France ;  you  will  see  whither 
they  will  lead  it." 

The  king  spoke  this  with  an  animated  air,  and  if  at 
this  moment  M.  de  la  Vrilliere  had  come  to  ask  for  a 
lettre  de  cachet  against  a  writer,  the  king  would  not 
have  refused  it. 

"Besides,*  added  the  king,  in  a  tone  of  less  anger,  but 
no  less  emphatically,  (<  I  see  with  pain  that  the  police 
do  not  do  their  duty  with  regard  to  all  these  indignities. w 

<(  Yet,  "  said  the  due  de  Duras,  ft  M.  de  Sartines  does 
wonders. " 

<(  Then  why  does  he  tolerate  such  insults  ?  I  will  let 
him  know  my  discontent. " 

The  due  de  Duras  was  alarmed,  and  kept  his  mouth 
closed.  The  king  then,  resuming  his  gaiety,  joked  the 
two  gentlemen  on  their  secret  intrigues:  then  changing 
the  conversation  suddenly,  he  talked  of  the  expected  ar- 
rival of  the  king  of  Denmark. 

<(  Due  de  Duras,  *  said  he,  <(  you  and  your  son  must  do 
the  office  of  master  of  ceremonies  to  his  Polar  majesty. 
I  hope  you  will  endeavor  to  amuse  him." 

<(  Yes,  sire." 

"Mind,  what  you  undertake  is  no  joke.  It  is  no  easy 
matter  to  amuse  a  king." 

This  was  a  truth  which  I  perceived  at  every  moment, 
and  our  monarch  was  not  the  one  to  be  amused  with 
trifling  exertion.  Frequently  when  he  entered  my  apart- 
ment he  threw  himself  on  an  ottoman,  and  yawned  most 
excessively;  yes,  yawned  in  my  company.  I  had  but  one 
mode  of  rousing  him  from  this  apathy,  but  it  was  a  sure 
one.  I  spoke  of  the  high  magistracy  and  its  perpetual 
resistance  to  the  throne.  Then  the  king  aroused,  in- 
stantly sprung  from  his  seat,  traversed  the  room  with 
rapid  strides,  and  declaimed  vigorously  against  the  black 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  61 

gowns;  thus  he  styled  the  parliaments.  I  confess,  how- 
ever, that  I  only  had  recourse  to  the  black  gowns  at  the 
last  extremity.  Little  did  I  think  that  at  a  later  period 
I  should  league  myself  against  them.  On  the  one  hand, 
the  due  d'Aiguillon  hated  them  mortally,  and  on  the 
other,  the  comte  Jean,  like  a  real  Toulousian,  would  have 
carried  them  in  his  slippers;  so  that  wavering  between 
the  admiration  of  the  one  and  the  hatred  of  the  other,  I 
knew  not  which  to  listen  to,  or  which  party  to  side 
with.  But  to  return  to  present  matters. 

The  king  was  always  thinking  of  the  (<  Nouvelles  a  la 
Main*  and  determined  to  avenge  me  as  openly  as  I  had 
been  attacked.  Two  or  three  days  afterwards  he  gave  a 
supper,  to  which  he  invited  the  duchesse  and  comtesse 
de  Grammont,  madame  de  Forcalquier,  the  princesse  de 
Marsan,  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix,  and  the  comtesses  de 
Coigny  and  de  Montbarrey.  They  were  seated  at  table 
laughing  and  amusing  themselves ;  they  talked  of  the  pleas- 
ure of  being  to  themselves,  of  having  no  strangers;  they 
pierced  me  with  a  hundred  thrusts ;  they  triumphed !  and 
yet  the  king  was  laughing  in  his  sleeve.  At  a  premeditated 
signal  the  due  d'Aiguillon,  one  of  the  guests,  asked  his 
majesty  if  he  had  seen  the  comtesse  du  Barry  that  day. 
This  terrible  name,  thrown  suddenly  into  the  midst  of 
my  enemies,  had  the  effect  of  a  thunder-clap.  All  the 
ladies  looked  at  each  other  first  and  then  at  the  king, 
and  the  due  d'Aiguillon,  preserving  profound  silence. 
His  majesty  then  replied,  that  he  had  not  had  the  hap- 
piness of  visiting  me  that  day,  not  having  had  one  mo- 
ment's leisure;  then  eulogized  me  at  great  length,  and 
ended  by  saying  to  the  duke,  <(  If  you  see  the  comtesse 
before  I  do,  be  sure  to  say  that  I  drank  this  glass  of 
wine  to  her  health." 

The  ladies  did  not  anticipate  this.  The  duchesse  de 
Grammont  particularly,  in  spite  of  long  residence  at 
court,  turned  pale  to  her  very  ears,  and  I  believe  but 
for  etiquette  she  would  have  fallen  into  a  swoon.  I  learnt 
afterwards  from  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix,  that  the 
duchesse,  on  going  home,  gave  herself  up  to  a  fit  of 
rage,  which  did  not  terminate  even  on  the  following 


62  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

day.  When  the  king  related  this  occurrence  to  me,  he 
was  as  proud  of  it  as  if  he  had  done  a  most  courageous 
deed. 

But  I  have  omitted  a  day  which  was  of  great  impor- 
tance to  me  in  its  consequences.  I  mean  the  day  which 
followed  that  on  which  I  had  complained  to  the  due  de 
Duras  of  M.  the  lieutenant  of  police.  In  the  morning 
early  my  sister-in-law  came  into  my  room. 

"Sister,*  said  she,  <(  comte  Jean  is  here  with  M.  de 
Sartines,  who  begs  to  pay  his  respects  to  you.  Will  you 
receive  him  ?  * 

<(  M.  de  Sartines !  Yes,  let  him  come  in ;  I  will  treat 
him  as  he  deserves.  * 

Comte  Jean  then  came  in,  preceded  by  the  lieutenant 
of  police:  he  wore  a  large  peruke  with  white  powder,  and 
curled  with  the  utmost  care.  Wigs  were  his  mania,  and  he 
had  a  room  filled  from  floor  to  ceiling  with  these  orna- 
ments. The  due  d'Ayen  said,  that  he  never  should  be  in 
trouble  about  the  council  of  state,  for  in  case  of  need,  it 
might  be  found  and  replenished  from  the  house  of  the 
lieutenant  of  police.  Let  us  leave  wigs  and  revert  to 
M.  de  Sartines. 

He  appeared  before  me  with  the  air  of  Tartuffe,  and, 
forgive  the  phrase,  en  vrai  capon. 

"Madame,*  said  he  to  me,  <(I  have  been  informed  that 
I  am  in  disgrace  with  you,  and  have  come  to  inquire 
how  I  may  extricate  myself  from  this  misfortune.* 

<(You  ought  to  know,  sir.  Twice  in  one  month  have  I 
been  shamefully  insulted;  and  yet  the  first  intimation  of 
such  a  thing  ought  to  have  put  you  on  your  guard.* 

M.  de  Sartines,  whom  my  tone  had  much  surprised, 
endeavored  to  justify  himself,  when  comte  Jean  said 
to  him, 

"  My  dear  lieutenant  of  police,  all  you  have  said  goes 
for  nothing.  One  thing  is  certain,  and  that  is,  that  there 
is  a  deficiency  of  respect  towards  my  sister-in-law.  You 
say  that  it  is  not  your  fault:  what  proof  do  you  give  us 
of  this  ?  What  inquiries  have  you  made  ?  What  meas- 
ures have  you  taken  ?  Any  ?  Why  do  you  come  to  us  if 
you  aid  our  enemies  ?  * 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  63 

M.  de  Sartines  would  fain  have  ensconced  himself  in 
his  own  dignity. 

(<  M.  du  Barry, "  was  his  reply,  <(  I  shall  render  an  ac- 
count of  my  conduct  to  the  king-." 

<(Very  well,  sir,"  I  replied,  "but  do  not  suppose  that 
either  you  or  the  Choiseuls  can  give  me  any  cause  of 
fear." 

M.  de  Sartines  was  thunderstruck ;  my  boldness  aston- 
ished him.  At  length  he  said, 

(<  Madame,  you  are  angry  with  me  causelessly ;  I  am 
more  negligent  than  culpable.  It  is  useless  to  say  this 
to  the  king." 

<(  I  will  not  conceal  from  you,  sir,  that  he  knows  it  all, 
and  is  greatly  discontented  with  you." 

(<  I  am  lost  then,"  said  M.  de  Sartines. 

(<Lost!  not  precisely,"  replied  comte  Jean;  (<but  you 
must  decide  at  once  and  for  ever  what  party  you  will 
join.  If  you  are  with  us  they  will  use  you  harshly;  if 
you  take  the  opposite  party  look  to  yourself.  Choose. " 

After  some  turnings  and  twistings,  accompanied  with 
compliments,  M.  de  Sartines  declared  that  he  would  range 
himself  under  our  banner.  Then  I  extended  to  him  my 
hand  in  token  of  reconciliation;  he  took  it  with  respect, 
and  kissed  it  with  gallantry.  Up  to  this  time  we  had 
conversed  with  feelings  of  restraint  and  standing;  but 
now  we  seated  ourselves,  and  begun  a  conference  in  form, 
as  to  the  manner  of  preventing  a  recurrence  of  the 
offensive  outrages  against  me.  As  a  proof  of  good  in- 
tention M.  de  Sartines  told  me  the  author  of  the  two 
articles  of  which  I  complained.  He  was  a  wretch,  named 
Ledoux,  who  for  twelve  hundred  livres  per  annum  wrote 
down  all  those  who  displeased  the  duchesse  de  Grammont. 
This  lady  had  no  fear  of  doing  all  that  was  necessary  to 
remove  every  obstacle  to  the  publication  of  such  infamies. 

After  M.  de  Sartines  had  given  us  all  the  details  which 
we  desired,  and  after  I  had  promised  to  reconcile  him  to 
his  master,  he  went  away  delighted  with  having  seen  me. 
Believe  me,  my  friend,  it  is  necessary  to  be  as  handsome 
as  I  am,  that  is  to  say,  as  I  was,  to  seduce  a  lieutenant 
of  police. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

The  sieur  Ledoux — The  lettre  de  cachet — The  due  de  la  Vrilliere 
—  Madame  de  Langeac — M.  de  Maupeou — Louis  XV. — The  comte 
Jean. 

ON  THAT  very  evening  the  king  having  come  to  me,  I 
said  to  him, 

ft  Sire,    I    have    made    acquaintance   with    M.    de 
Sartines." 

<(  What !  has  he  been  to  make  friends  with  you  ?  * 

w  Something  like  it:  but  he  has  appeared  to  me  less  cul- 
pable than  I  thought.  He  had  only  yielded  to  the  solici- 
tation of  my  personal  enemy." 

*You  cannot  have  one  at  my  court,  madame;  the 
lieutenant  of  police  would  have  done  well  not  to  have 
named  her  to  you.® 

<(  Thanks  to  him,  however,  I  shall  now  know  whom  I 
ought  to  mistrust.  I  know  also  who  is  the  author  of  the 
two  scurrilous  paragraphs.* 

"Some  scamp,  no  doubt;  some,  beggarly  scoundrel." 

*A  monsieur  Ledoux." 

<(Ah,  I  know  the  fellow.  His  bad  reputation  has 
reached  me.  It  must  be  stopped  at  last." 

So  saying,  Louis  XV.  went  to  the  chimney,  and  pulled 
the  bell-rope  with  so  much  vehemence  that  ten  persons 
answered  it  at  once. 

<(  Send  for  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere ;  if  he  be  not  suita- 
bly attired  let  him  come  in  his  night-gown,  no  matter  so 
that  he  appear  quickly." 

On  hearing  an  order  given  in  this  manner  a  stranger 
might  have  supposed  the  king  crazy,  and  not  intent  on 
imprisoning  a  miserable  libeller.  I  interceded  in  his 
favor,  but  Louis  XV.,  delighted  at  an  opportunity  of 
playing  the  king  at  a  small  cost,  told  me  that  it  was  no 
(64) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  65 

person's  business,  and  he  would  be  dictated  to  by  no  one. 
I  was  silent,  reserving  myself  until  another  opportunity 
when  I  could  undertake  the  defence  of  the  poor  devil. 

The  due  de  la  Vrilliere  arrived,  not  in  a  dressing- 
gown,  as  the  king  had  authorized,  but  in  magnificent 
costume.  He  piqued  himself  on  his  expenditure,  and 
always  appeared  superbly  attired,  altho  the  splendor  of 
his  apparel  could  not  conceal  the  meanness  of  his  look. 
He  was  the  oldest  secretary  of  state,  and  certainly  was 
the  least  skilful,  least  esteemed,  least  considered.  Some 
time  after  his  death  some  one  said  of  him  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  due  d'Ayen,  that  he  had  been  an  unfor- 
tunate man,  for  he  had  been  all  his  life  the  butt  of 
public  hatred  and  universal  contempt.  <(  Rather  say,M 
replied  the  duke,  *  that  he  has  been  a  fortunate  man ; 
for  if  justice  had  been  rendered  to  him  according  to  his 
deserts,  he  would  have  been  hung  at  least  a  dozen  times. B 

The  due  d'Ayen  was  right:  M.  de  la  Vrilliere  was  a 
brazen-faced  rogue;  a  complete  thief,  without  dignity, 
character,  or  heart.  His  cupidity  was  boundless:  the 
lettres  de  cachet  emanated  from  his  office,  and  he  carried 
on  an  execrable  trade  in  them.  If  any  person  wished  to 
get  rid  of  a  father,  brother,  or  husband,  they  only  had 
to  apply  to  M.  de  la  Vrilliere.  He  sold  the  king's  sig- 
nature to  all  who  paid  ready  money  for  it.  This  man 
inspired  me  with  an  invincible  horror  and  repugnance. 
For  his  part,  as  I  was  not  disgusting,  he  contented  him- 
self with  hating  me;  he  was  animated  against  me  by  his 
old  and  avaricious  mistress,  madame  de  Langeac,  alias 
Subutin.  Langeac  could  not  endure  me.  She  felt  that 
it  was  better  to  be  the  mistress  of  Louis  XV.  than  that 
of  the  petit  la  Vrilltire,  for  so  her  lover  was  called  at 
court.  I  knew  that  she  was  no  friend  of  mine,  and  that 
her  lover  sided  with  the  Choiseuls  against  me;  and  was 
consequently  the  more  delighted  to  see  the  little  scoun- 
drel come  to  receive  the  order  for  avenging  me.  He 
entered  with  an  air  of  .embarrassment;  and  whilst  he 
made  me  a  salute  as  low  as  to  the  king,  this  latter,  in  a 
brief  severe  tone,  ordered  him  to  send  the  sieur  Ledoux 
to  Saint  Lazare  forthwith.  He  departed  without  reply, 
5 


66  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

and  half  an  hour  afterwards  returned,  to  say  that  it  was 
done.  The  king  then  said  to  him, 

<(  Do  you  know  this  lady  ?  * 

w  No,    sire. w 

"Well,  I  desire  you  henceforward  to  have  the  greatest 
consideration  for  her  as  my  best  friend,  and  whoever 
wishes  to  prove  his  zeal  for  me,  will  honor  and  cherish 
her.» 

The  king  then  invited  him  to  sup  with  us,  and  I  am 
sure  that  during  the  whole  repast  I  was  the  hardest 
morsel  he  had  to  digest. 

Some  days  afterwards  I  made  acquaintance  with  a  per- 
son much  more  important  than  the  little  duke,  and  des- 
tined to  play  a  great  part  in  the  history  of  France.  I 
mean  M.  de  Maupeou,  the  late  chancellor,  who,  in  his 
disgrace,  would  not  resign  his  charge.  M.  de  Maupeou 
possessed  one  of  those  firm  and  superior  minds,  which, 
in  spite  of  all  obstacles,  change  the  face  of  empires. 
Ardent,  yet  cool;  bold,  but  reflective;  the  clamors  of 
the  populace  did  not  astonish,  nor  did  any  obstacles 
arrest  him.  He  went  on  in  the  direct  path  which  his 
will  chalked  out.  Quitting  the  magistracy,  he  became  its 
most  implacable  enemy,  and  after  a  deadly  combat  he 
came  off  conqueror.  He  felt  that  the  moment  had  ar- 
rived for  freeing  royalty  from  the  chains  which  it  had 
imposed  on  itself.  It  was  necessary,  he  has  said  to  me 
a  hundred  times,  for  the  kings  of  France  in  past  ages  to 
have  a  popular  power  on  which  they  could  rely  for  the 
overturning  of  the  feudal  power.  This  power  they  found 
in  the  high  magistracy;  but  since  the  reign  of  Louis 
XIII.  the  mission  of  the  parliaments  had  finished,  the 
nobility  was  reduced,  and  they  became  no  less  formidable 
than  the  enemy  whom  they  had  aided  in  subduing. 

<(  Before  fifty  years,*  pursued  M.  de  Maupeou,  (<  kings 
will  be  nothing  in  France,  and  parliaments  will  be  every- 
thing. » 

Talented,  a  good  speaker,  even  eloquent,  M.  de  Maupeou 
possessed  qualities  which  made  the  greatest  enterprises 
successful.  He  was  convinced  that  all  men  have  their 
price,  and  that  it  is  only  to  find  out  the  sum  at  which 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  67 

they  are  purchasable.  *  As  brave  personally  as  a  mare'chal 
of  France,  his  enemies  (and  he  had  many)  called  him  a 
coarse  and  quarrelsome  man.  Hated  by  all,  he  despised 
men  in  a  body,  and  jeered  at  them  individually;  but  little 
sensible  to  the  charms  of  our  sex,  he  only  thought  of  us 
by  freaks,  and  as  a  means  of  relaxation.  This  is  M.  de 
Maupeou,  painted  to  the  life.  As  for  his  person,  you 
know  it  as  well  as  I  do.  I  have  no  need  to  tell  you, 
that  he  was  little,  ugly,  and  his  complexion  was  yellow, 
bordering  upon  green.  It  must  be  owned,  however,  that 
his  face,  full  of  thought  and  intelligence,  fully  com- 
pensated for  all  the  rest. 

You  know  how,  as  first  president  of  the  parliament  of 
Paris,  he  succeeded  his  father  as  vice-chancellor.  At  the 
resignation  of  the  titular  M.  de  Lamoignon,f  the  elder 
Maupeou  received  his  letters  of  nomination,  and  as  soon 
as  they  were  registered,  he  resigned  in  favor  of  his  son. 
The  Choiseuls  had  allowed  the  latter  to  be  nominated, 
relying  on  finding  him  a  creature.  I  soon  saw  that  the 
Choiseuls  were  mistaken. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  October,  that  Henriette,  always 
my  favorite,  came  to  me  with  an  air  of  unusual  mystery, 
to  say,  that  a  black  and  ugly  gentleman  wished  to  see 
me ;  that  on  the  usual  reply  that  I  was  not  visible,  he  had 
insisted,  and  sent,  at  the  same  time,  a  cautiously  sealed 
note.  I  took  it,  opened,  and  read  these  words:  — 

«  The  chancellor  of  France  wishes  to  have  the  honor  of  presenting 
his  respectful  homage  to  madame  la  comtesse  du  Barry.* 

<(  Let  him  come  in, "  I  said  to  Henriette. 

(<  I  will  lay  a  wager,  madame,  that  he  comes  to  ask 
some  favor. w 

<(  I  believe,*  replied  I,  (<  that  he  is  more  frequently  the 
solicited  than  the  solicitor. w 

Henriette  went  out,  and  in  a  few  minutes  led  in,  thro' 
the  private  corridors  which  communicated  with  my  apart- 

*  This    gentleman    would     have    been    an    able    coadjutor    for  sir 
Robert  Walpole. — Trans, 
f  In  September,   1768. 


68  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

ment,  his  highness  monseigneur  Ren6  Nicolas  Charles 
Augustin  de  Maupeou,  chevalier  and  chancellor  of  France. 
As  soon  as  he  entered  I  conceived  a  good  opinion  of  him, 
altho*  I  had  only  seen  him  walk.  His  step  was  firm  and 
assured,  like  that  of  a  man  confident  in  the  resources  of 
his  own  talents. 

<(  Madame  la  comtesse  du  Barry, *  he  said,  <(  would  have 
a  right  to  complain  of  me,  if  I  did  not  come  and  lay 
my  person  at  her  feet.  I  had  the  more  impatience  to 
express  to  her  my  devotion,  as  I  feared  she  had  been 
prejudiced  against  me.* 

<(  How,  monseigneur  ? * 

<(  The  gate  by  which  I  entered  the  ministry  —  * 

<(  Is  not  agreeable  to  me,  as  being  that  of  my  enemies, 
but  I  feel  assured  that  you  will  not  side  with  them 
against  me.* 

(<  Certainly  not,  madame ;  it  is  my  wish  to  give  you 
pleasure  in  every  thing,  and  I  flatter  myself  I  may  merit 
your  friendship.* 

After  many  other  compliments,  the  Chancellor  asked 
me,  with  much  familiarity,  when  my  presentation  was  to 
take  place,  and  why  it  had  not  yet  occurred.  I  replied, 
that  the  delay  arose  from  the  intrigues  of  Choiseul,  and 
the  king  shrunk  from  the  discontent  of  a  handful  of 
courtiers. 

<(  I  am  sorry  for  it,*  said  M.  de  Maupeou;  (<in  the  first 
place,  madame,  because  of  the  interest  I  take  in  you,  and 
also  because  for  his  majesty,  it  would  be  a  means  of 
striking  terror  into  the  opposing  party.  You  know, 
madame,  how  annoying  parliaments  are  to  all  your  friends, 
and  with  what  bitterness  those  of  Bretagne  and  Paris,  at 
this  moment,  are  pursuing  the  due  d'Aiguillon.  * 

<(  Do  you  think,  *  I  replied  with  emotion,  <(  that  matters 
are  unfavorable  towards  him  ?  * 

w  I  hope  not,  but  he  must  be  warmly  supported.  * 

w  Ah !  I  will  aid  him  with  all  my  influence,  He  is 
no  doubt  innocent  of  the  crimes  imputed  to  him.* 

(<  Yes,  certainly.  He  has  done  no  other  wrong  than  to 
defend  the  authority  of  the  crown  against  the  enmity  of 
the  parliaments.* 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  69 

We  continued  some  time  to  talk  of  parliaments  and 
parliament  men:  then  we  agreed  that  M.  de  Maupeou 
should  see  me  again,  accompanied  by  the  due  d'Aiguil- 
lon,  who  should  have  the  credit  of  presenting  him,  and 
he  left  me  with  as  much  mystery  as  he  had  entered. 

When  the  king  came  to  see  me,  I  said  to  him,  *  I 
have  made  acquaintance  with  your  chancellor:  he  is  a 
very  amiable  man,  and  I  hope  that  he  will  not  conduct 
himself  improperly  towards  me.  * 

w  Where  did  you  see  him  ? " 

"Here,  sire,  and  but  a  short  time  since.* 

*  He  came  then  to  visit  you  ?  " 

<(Yes,  in  person,  that  he  might  obtain  the  favor  of  be- 
ing permitted  to  pay  his  court  to  me.* 

(<  Really  what  you  tell  me  seems  perfectly  unaccount- 
able. He  has  then  burst  from  the  hands  of  the  Choi- 
seuls  ?  It  is  amusing.  Poor  Choiseul,  when  soliciting  for 
Maupeou,  he  most  tremendously  deceived  himself." 

"At  least,  sire,  you  must  own  that  he  has  given  you 
no  fool." 

"True.  The  chancellor  is  a  man  full  of  talents,  and 
I  do  not  doubt  but  that  he  will  restore  to  my  crown  that 
power  which  circumstances  have  deprived  it  of.  How- 
ever, if  you  see  him  familiarly,  advise  him  not  to  per- 
suade me  to  extreme  measures.  I  wish  all  should  work 
for  the  best,  without  violent  courses  and  without  painful 
struggles. " 

These  last  words  proved  to  me  the  natural  timidity  of 
the  king. 

"  I  knew  very  well, "  added  the  king,  "  that  Maupeou 
would  not  prove  a  man  for  the  Choiseuls.  The  main 
point  is,  that  he  should  be  mine,  and  I  am  content." 

Louis  XV.  was  then  satisfied  with  the  chancellor,  but 
he  was  not  equally  so  with  the  comte  Jean. 

"I  do  not  like,"  said  he  to  me,  "your  Du  Barry 
monkey.  He  is  a  treacherous  fellow,  who  has  betrayed 
his  party,  and  I  hope  some  of  these  mornings  we  shall 
hear  that  the  devil  has  wrung  his  neck." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  king  of  Denmark  —  The  courtesans  of  Paris  —  The  due  de  Choi- 
seul  and  the  bishop  of  Orleans  —  Witty  repartees  of  the  king  of 
Denmark  —  His  visit  to  madame  du  Barry  —  «The  court  of  king 
Petaud,*  a  satire — Letter  of  the  due  d'Aiguillon  to  Voltaire  — 
The  duchesse  de  Grammont  mystified  —  Unpublished  letter  of  Vol- 
taire's. 

FROM  this  moment,  and  in  spite  of  all  that  comte  Jean 
could  say  against  it,  a  new  counsellor  was  admitted 

to  my  confidence.  He  was  the  chancellor.  The 
due  d'Aiguillon  and  he  were  on  very  good  terms,  and 
these  two, '  with  the  abbe"  Teray,  of  whom  I  shall  speak 
to  you  presently,  formed  a  triumvirate,  which  governed 
France  from  the  disgrace  of  M.  de  Choiseul  to  the  death 
of  the  king.  But  before  I  enter  upon  a  detail  of  those 
politics,  of  which  you  will  find  that  I  understand  some- 
thing, allow  me  to  continue  the  history  of  my  presenta- 
tion, and  also  to  give  some  account  of  Christian  VII. 

You  know  that  his  Danish  majesty  was  expected  with 
anything  but  pleasure  by  the  king  of  France,  and  with 
curiosity  by  the  rest  of  the  nation.  Men  and  women 
were  impatient  to  see  a  king,  under  twenty  years  of  age, 
who  was  traversing  Europe  with  a  design  of  attaining  in- 
struction. Married  to  a  lovely  woman,  Caroline  Mathilde, 
he  had  left  her  on  the  instant,  without  suspecting  that 
this  separation  would  prove  fatal  to  both.  At  Paris,  the 
real  character  of  this  prince  was  not  known,  but  a  con- 
fused report  of  his  gallantry  was  spread  abroad,  on  which 
all  the  courtesans  of  note  in  the  city  began  to  try  all  arts 
to  please  him,  each  hoping  to  attract  him  to  herself,  and 
dip  into  his  strong  box.  M.  de  Sartines  amused  us  one 
evening,  the  king  and  myself,  by  telling  us  of  the  plans 
of  these  ladies.  Some  were  going  to  meet  his  Danish 

(70) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  71 

majesty,  others  were  to  await  him  at  the  barrier,  and 
two  of  the  most  renowned,  mesdemoiselles  Gradi  and 
Laprairie  had  their  portraits  painted,  to  send  to  the 
young  monarch  as  soon  as  he  should  arrive. 

Christian  VII.  entered  Paris  the  latter  end  of  the  month 
of  October,  1768.  MM.  de  Duras  complimented  him  in 
the  king's  name,  and  informed  him  that  they  were 
charged  with  the  office  of  receiving  his  commands  during 
his  residence  in  Paris.  The  interview  of  the  king  and 
the  illustrious  stranger  took  place  at  Versailles.  Christian 
VII.  came  thither  in  the  state -carriage,  and  was  conducted 
by  the  due  de  Duras  into  the  apartment  of  the  dauphin, 
where  he  remained  until  Louis  XV.  was  prepared  to  re- 
ceive him.  I  had  heard  much  discussion  about  this  recep- 
tion. It  was  said,  that  to  make  a  distinction  between  the 
sovereign  of  a  petty  state  and  that  of  the  superb  king- 
dom of  France,  it  was  requisite  that  the  former  should 
await  for  some  time  the  audience  which  the  latter  ac- 
corded. I  am  sure  that  when  the  peace  with  Frederick 
was  agitated,  the  face  of  Louis  XV.  was  not  more  grave 
and  serious  than  during  this  puerile  debate  about  etiquette. 

The  due  de  Choiseul,  who  had  the  control  of  foreign 
affairs,  was  in  the  apartment  to  receive  his  Danish  ma- 
jesty, with  his  colleagues,  the  due  de  Praslin,  the  comte 
de  Saint- Florentin  (whom  I  have  called  by  anticipation 
due  de  la  Vrilliere),  M.  Bertin,  M.  Mainon  d'Invau,  con- 
troller of  the  finances,  and  M.  de  Jarente,  bishop  of  Or- 
leans and  one  of  the  ministry.  He  kept  himself  somewhat 
in  the  background,  as  tho'  from  humility.  The  due  de 
Choiseul  came  up  to  him,  and  said,  with  a  smile, 

<(  Monseigneur,  what  brings  you  in  contact  with  a 
heretic  ? w 

<(To  watch  for  the  moment  of  penitence.* 

(<  But  what  will  you  do  if  it  become  necessary  to  teach 
him  his  credo?^ 

M.  de  Jarente  understood  the  joke,  and  was  the  first  to 
jest  upon  his  own  unepiscopal  conduct,  replying  to  the 
due  de  Choiseul, 

"There  is  a  person  present  who  knows  it;  he  will 
whisper  it  to  me,  and,  if  necessary,  the  Veni  Creator  also. w 


72  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

The  king  of  Denmark  was  congratulated  by  the  due 
de  Choiseul,  who  discharged  this  duty  with  as  much 
grace  as  wit.  Afterwards  M.  Desgranges,  master  of  the 
ceremonies,  having  announced  that  Louis  XV.  was  visible, 
the  king  of  Denmark,  preceded  by  his  gentlemen  and  the 
French  ministers  and  lords,  went  to  the  king's  cabinet, 
in  which  two  arm-chairs  precisely  alike  were  prepared, 
but  his  majesty  of  Denmark  positively  refused  to  be 
seated.  He  entered  into  conversation,  and  felicitated 
himself  on  seeing  a  monarch,  whose  renown  filled  Eu- 
rope, and  whom  he  should  take  as  his  model.  During 
this  conversation  Christian  VII.  displayed  the  greatest 
amiability.  Our  king,  speaking  to  him,  said,  <(  I  am  old 
enough  to  be  your  father * ;  to  which  he  replied,  *  All 
my  conduct  towards  you  shall  be  that  of  a  son.*  This 
was  thought  admirable;  and  at  the  termination  of  the 
interview  Louis  XV.  appeared  charmed  with  his  brother 
of  Denmark.  <(  He  is  a  complete  Frenchman,*  said  he 
to  me,  <(and  I  should  be  sorry  if  he  left  me  dissatis- 
fied.8 

That  same  evening  Christian  VII.  visited   monseigneur 
the    dauphin,   in   whom   he   did    not   find  the  urbanity  of 
his  grandfather.     The  conversation  was  short  and  abridged 
out  of   regard   to  our  prince,  who  only  stammered,  with- 
out being  able  to  find    one    polished   phrase.     Never  was 
there   in    his   youth    a    more   timid   and    awkwardly  con- 
ducted prince   than    the    present    king.     I    shall   mention 
him  and  his   brothers   hereafter,  but  will   now  direct  my 
immediate  attention  to  the  king  of  Denmark.     He  supped 
the  same  evening  with    Louis  XV.  at    a   table  with   four 
and    twenty  ladies  of   the  court,    selected   from   amongst 
those  most  celebrated  for  the  charms  of  their  persons  or 
their   wit.     As    his    Danish    majesty   was   greatly   struck 
with   madame   de    Flaracourt,  the   king   asked  him   how 
old  the  lady  might  be  in  his  opinion. 
<(  Thirty,  perhaps,  *  was  the  reply. 
« Thirty,  brother!  she  is  fifty.* 
"Then  age  has  no  influence  at  your  court.* 
I    shall   not   copy  the  <(  Gazette  de  France*  to   tell   you 
of    the    sojourn    of    Christian  VII.  at    Paris.     I    am    not 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  73 

writing  the  journal  of  this  prince  but  of  myself.  The 
king  one  day  said  to  me, 

<(  My  brother  of  Denmark  has  expressed  to  the  due  de 
Duras  a  great  desire  to  pay  his  respects  to  you,  if  you 
will  accede  to  his  wishes.  I  leave  you  entirely  sovereign 
mistress  of  yourself,  not  without  some  fear  however  that 
the  young  king  will  steal  away  your  heart  from  me.8 

"Ah,  sire,"  I  replied,  "that  is  an  unjust  suspicion;  I 
should  be  angry  about  it  if  it  were  not  a  joke,  and 
would  refuse  to  see  the  king  of  Denmark  did  I  not 
know  how  fully  you  are  assured  of  my  attachment  to 
you. " 

"I  should  not  be  so  jealous,  madame,  if  I  did  not  set 
so  much  value  on  it,"  was  the  reply  of  the  king,  as  he 
kissed  my  hand. 

The  due  de  Duras  came  the  next  day  to  inform  me  of 
the  request  of  his  new  king.  It  was  agreed,  in  order  to 
keep  the  interview  secret,  that  I  should  receive  him  at 
my  own  mansion  in  the  Rue  de  la  Jussienne,  and  that  he 
should  come  there  without  suite,  and  with  the  strictest 
incognito.  At  the  day  and  hour  agreed  he  entered  my 
house,  escorting  two  strangers  of  admirable  presence. 
One  was  the  king  of  Denmark,  under  the  name  of  comte 

de  ,  and  the  other  a  nobleman  of  his  suite.  Christian 

VII.  appeared  to  me  a  very  handsome  man.  He  had 
large  and  singularly  expressive  eyes;  too  much  so,  per- 
haps, for  their  brilliancy  was  not  of  good  augury;  and  I 
was  not  surprised  at  hearing  subsequently  that  his  reason 
had  abandoned  him,  altho'  he  possessed  and  exerted  his 
wit  most  perfectly  during  our  conversation,  in  which  he 
displayed  the  greatest  gallantry.  I  could  not  reproach 
him  with  one  single  expression  that  was  objectionable, 
altho'  the  subject  of  conversation  was  delicate.  He  dis- 
coursed of  the  feelings  of  the  king  towards  me,  and  yet 
said  not  a  word  that  was  unsuited  or  out  of  place, 
nothing  but  what  was  in  the  best  taste,  and  expressed 
with  the  utmost  delicacy.  I  asked  him  if  the  ladies  of 
Denmark  were  handsome.  <(I  thought,  madame,"  was 
his  reply,  (<  until  now,  that  the  ladies  of  my  kingdom  were 
the  most  lovely  in  Europe." 


74  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

We  did  not  talk  of  myself  only:  Christian  VII.  spoke 
of  Paris  with  enthusiasm.  ft  It  is  the  capital  of  the 
world, *  he  remarked,  <(  and  our  states  are  but  the 
provinces. *  He  sought  out  our  most  celebrated  savants 
and  literati,  and  was  particularly  delighted  with  d'Alem- 
bert,  Diderot,  la  Harpe,  and  M.  the  comte  de  Buffon. 
He  greatly  regretted  that  Voltaire  was  not  in  Paris,  and 
expressed  his  great  desire  to  see  at  Ferney  the  great 
genius  (as  he  termed  him)  who  instructed  and  amused 
the  world.  He  appeared  weary  of  the  fetes  which  were 
given,  and  especially  with  the  deadly-lively  company  of 
the  two  Duras.  It  was  enough  to  kill  you  to  have  only 
one  of  them,  and  you  may  imagine  the  torture  of  being 
bored  with  both.  The  duke  had  promised  Louis  XV.  to 
be  as  amusing  as  possible  too!  After  a  conversation  of 
three  hours,  which  his  majesty  (of  course)  said  had  ap- 
peared but  of  a  moment,  he  left  me  delighted  with  his 
person,  wit,  and  manners. 

When  Louis  XV.  saw  me,  he  inquired  my  opinion  of 
his  Danish  majesty. 

<(  He  is, *  I  replied,  <(  a  well-educated  king,  and  that 
they  say  is  a  rarity. * 

<(  True,  *  said  Louis  XV. ,  <(  there  are  so  many  persons 
who  are  interested  in  our  ignorance,  that  it  is  a  miracle 
if  we  escape  out  of  their  hands  as  reasonable  beings.* 

I  went  on  to  tell  the  king  our  conversation. 

"Ah,*  cried  he,  <(here  is  one  who  will  increase  the 
vanity  of  the  literary  tribe:  they  want  it,  certainly.  All 
these  wits  are  our  natural  born  enemies ;  and  think  them- 
selves above  us;  and  the  more  we  honor  them,  the 
greater  right  do  they  assume  to  censure  and  despise  us.* 

This  was  the  usual  burden  of  his  song:  he  hated  men 
of  learning.  Voltaire  especially  was  his  detestation,  on 
account  of  the  numerous  epigrams  which  this  great  man 
had  written  against  him;  and  Voltaire  had  just  given 
fresh  subject  of  offence  by  publishing  (<  La  Cour  du  Roi 
Petaud*  («The  Court  of  the  King  Petaud,*)  a  satire  evi- 
dently directed  as  strongly  against  the  king  as  your 
humble  servant.  M.  de  Voltaire  had  doubtless  been  en- 
couraged to  write  this  libel  by  the  Choiseul  party.  He 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  75 

was  at  a  distance,  judged  unfavorably  of  me,  and  thought 
he  could  scourge  me  without  compromising  himself. 

It  was  comte  Jean  who  brought  me  these  verses,  in 
which  there  was  less  poetry  than  malevolence.  I  read 
them,  was  indignant,  and  wept.  The  due  d'Aiguillon 
came,  and  rinding  me  in  tears,  inquired  the  cause. 

"Here,**  said  I,  giving  him  the  poem,  (<  see  if  you  can 
bear  so  gross  an  insult.  **  He  took  the  paper,  cast  his 
eyes  over  it,  and  having  folded  it  up,  put  it  into  his 
pocket. 

<(  It  was  ill  done,  **  said  he,  <(  to  show  this  to  you.  I 
knew  of  it  yesterday,  and  came  now  to  talk  with  you 
of  it.** 

(( I  rely  on  you  to  do  me  justice.  ** 

<(  Mistrieorde !  **  cried  the  duke,  (<  would  you  lose  your- 
self in  the  eyes  of  all  France  ?  You  would  place 
yourself  in  a  fine  situation  by  declaring  yourself  the 
persecutrix  of  Voltaire.  Only  an  enemy  could  have  thus 
advised  you.** 

<(  That  enemy  was  comte  Jean.  ** 

(<  Then  your  imprudence  equals  your  zeal.  Do  you  not 
perceive  the  advantage  it  would  give  to  your  adversaries 
were  we  to  act  in  this  manner  ?  To  the  hatred  of  the 
court  would  be  united  that  of  the  literati,  women,  and 
young  persons.  Voltaire  is  a  god,  who  is  not  to  be 
smitten  without  sacrilege.** 

<(  Must  I  then  tamely  submit  to  be  beaten  ?  ** 

(<  Yes,  for  the  moment.  But  it  will  not  last  long :  I 
have  just  written  this  letter  to  M.  de  Voltaire,  that  peace 
may  be  made  between  you:  — 

(<  SIR, — The  superiority  of  your  genius  places  you  amongst  the 
number  of  the  potentates  of  Europe.  Every  one  desires,  not  only  to  be 
at  peace  with  you,  but  even,  if  it  be  possible,  to  obtain  your  esteem. 
I  flatter  myself  with  being  included  in  the  ranks  of  your  admirers; 
my  uncle  has  spoken  to  you  many  times  of  my  attachment  to  your 
person,  and  I  embrace  the  opportunity  of  proving  this  by  a  means 
that  now  presents  itself. 

(<  Persons  in  whom  you  place  too  much  confidence  have  spread 
abroad,  under  your  name,  copies  of  a  poem,  entitled  (Za  Cour  du 
Roi  Petaud.^  In  this,  wherein  insult  is  cast  on  a  personage  who 
should  be  exempt  from  such  offence,  is  also  outraged,  in  a  most  in- 


76  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

decent  way,  a  lovely  female,  whom  you  would  adore  as  we  do,  if 
you  had  the  happiness  to  know  her.  Is  it  for  the  poet  of  the  lover 
of  Gabrielle  to  carry  desolation  into  the  kingdom  of  the  Graces  ? 

tt  Your  correspondents  use  you  ill  by  leaving  you  in  ignorance,  that 
this  young  person  has  immense  favor  here;  that  we  are  all  at  her 
feet;  that  she  is  all  powerful,  and  her  anger  is  to  be  particularly 
avoided.  She  is  the  more  to  be  propitiated,  as  yesterday,  in  presence 
of  a  certain  person  whom  your  verses  had  greatly  irritated,  she  took 
up  your  defence  with  as  much  grace  as  generosity.  You  see,  sir, 
that  you  ought  not  to  be  on  bad  terms  with  her. 

<(My  uncle  allows  me  to  see,  as  one  of  the  initiated,  what  you  call 
your  scraps,  which  are  delicious  feasts  to  us.  I  read  them  to  the 
lady  in  question,  who  takes  great  delight  in  reciting,  or  hearing 
others  recite,  your  verses,  and  she  begs  you  will  send  her  some  as  a 
proof  of  your  repentance.  Under  these  circumstances,  if  your  bel- 
licose disposition  urges  you  on  to  war,  we  hope,  before  you  continue 
it,  that  you  will  loyally  and  frankly  declare  it 

<(In  conclusion,  be  assured  that  I  shall  defend  you  to  my  utmost, 
and  am  for  life,  «  Yours,  etc.}> 

Whilst  we  were  awaiting  Voltaire's  reply,  I  determined 
to  avenge  myself  on  the  duchesse  de  Grammont,  who  had 
encouraged  him  in  his  attack;  and  thus  did  I  serve  this 
lady.  Persuaded  that  she  did  not  know  the  writing  of 
his  Danish  majesty,  I  wrote  the  following  letter  to  her:  — 

«  MADAME  LA  DUCHESSE, —  I  have  struggled  to  this  time  to  avoid 
confessing  to  you  how  I  am  subdued.  Happy  should  I  be  could  I 
throw  myself  at  your  feet  My  rank  alone  must  excuse  my  boldness. 
Nothing  would  equal  my  joy  if  this  evening,  at  the  theatre  at 
madame  de  Villeroi's,  you  would  appear  with  blue  feathers  in  your 
head-dress.  I  do  not  add  my  name;  it  is  one  of  those  which  should 
not  be  found  at  the  bottom  of  a  declaration  of  love.w 

In  spite  of  all  her  penetration,  the  duchesse  de  Gram- 
mont did  not  perceive,  in  the  emphatic  tone  of  this  letter, 
that  it  was  a  trick.  Her  self-love  made  her  believe  that 
a  woman  of  more  than  forty  could  be  pleasing  to  a  king 
not  yet  twenty.  She  actually  went  in  the  evening  to 
madame  de  Villeroi's  dressed  in  blue,  with  a  blue  plumed 
head-dress.  She  was  placed  next  to  his  Danish  majesty. 
Christian  VII.  addressed  her  in  most  courteous  terms,  but 
not  one  word  of  love. 

The  duchesse  imagining  that  the  prince  was  timid, 
looked  at  him  with  eyes  of  tenderness,  and  endeavored 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  77 

to  attract  and  encourage  him  by  all  means  she  could  de- 
vise, but  the  monarch  did  not  understand  her.  The 
duchesse  then  addressed  a  few  words,  which  she  hoped 
would  lead  to  an  explanation,  but,  to  her  dismay,  his 
majesty  did  not  appear  to  understand  her.  Madame  de 
Grammont  was  furious  at  this  affair.  The  due  d'Aiguillon, 
who  was  close  to  her,  had  seen  all,  heard  all,  and  related 
particulars  to  me.  The  same  day  I  told  the  king  of  my 
trick  and  its  success.  He  laughed  excessively,  and  then 
scolded  me  for  at  all  compromising  his  Danish  majesty. 

<(  How,  sire  ? }>  was  my  reply.  (<  I  did  not  sign  his 
name;  I  have  not  forged  his  signature.  The  vanity  of 
the  duchesse  has  alone  caused  all  the  ridiculous  portion 
of  this  joke.  So  much  the  worse  for  her  if  she  did  not 
succeed. w 

I  did  not,  however,  limit  my  revenge  to  this.  A  sec- 
ond letter,  in  the  same  hand,  was  addressed  to  my  luck- 
less enemy.  This  time  she  was  informed  that  she  had 
been  made  a  butt  of,  and  mystified.  I  learned  from  M.  de 
Sartines,  who,  after  our  compact,  gave  me  details  of  all, 
the  methods  she  had  pursued  to  detect  the  author  of 
these  two  epistles,  and  put  a  termination  to  all  these  in- 
quiries, by  denouncing  myself  to  M.  de  Sartines;  who 
then  gave  such  a  turn  to  the  whole  matter,  that  the 
duchesse  could  never  arrive  at  the  truth. 

Voltaire,  in  the  meantime,  was  not  slow  in  reply;  and 
as  I  imagine  that  you  will  not  be  sorry  to  read  his 
letter,  I  transcribe  it  for  you:  — 

«  MONSIEUR  LE  DUC, —  I  am  a  lost,  destroyed  man.  If  I  had  strength 
enough  to  fly,  1  do  not  know  where  I  should  find  courage  to  take 
refuge.  I !  Good  God !  I  am  suspected  of  having  attacked  that 
which,  in  common  with  all  France,  I  respect!  When  there  only  re- 
mains to  me  the  smallest  power  of  utterance,  but  enough  to  chant  a 
De  profundts,  that  I  should  employ  it  in  howling  at  the  most  lovely 
and  amiable  of  females!  Believe  me,  monsieur  le  due,  that  it  is  not 
at  the  moment  when  a  man  is  about  to  render  up  his  soul,  that  a 
man  of  my  good  feeling  would  outrage  the  divinity  whom  he  adores. 

«No,  I  am  not  the  author  of  the  «Cour  du  Rot  Petaud*  The 
verses  of  this  rhapsody  are  not  worth  much,  it  is  true;  but  indeed 
they  are  not  mine:  they  are  too  miserable,  and  of  too  bad  a  style. 
All  the  vile  trash  spread  abroad  in  my  name,  all  those  pamphlets 
without  talent,  make  me  lose  my  senses,  and  now  I  have  scarcely 


78  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

enough  left  to  defend  myself  with.  It  is  on  you,  monsieur  le  due, 
that  I  rely;  do  not  refuse  to  be  the  advocate  of  an  unfortunate  man 
unjustly  accused.  Condescend  to  say  to  this  young  lady,  that  I  have 
been  before  embroiled  with  madame  de  Pompadour,  for  whom  I 
professed  the  highest  esteem;  tell  her,  that  at  the  present  day  es- 
pecially, the  favorite  of  Caesar  is  sacred  for  me;  that  my  heart  and 
pen  are  hers,  and  that  I  only  aspire  to  live  and  die  under  her  banner. 

<(As  to  the  scraps  you  ask  for,  I  have  not  at  this  moment  any 
suitable.  Only  the  best  viands  are  served  up  at  the  table  of  the 
goddesses.  If  I  had  any  I  would  present  them  to  the  person  of 
whom  you  speak  to  me.  Assure  her,  that  one  day  the  greatest  merit 
of  my  verses  will  be  to  have  them  recited  by  her  lips;  and  entreat 
her,  until  she  bestows  immortality  on  me,  to  permit  me  to  prostrate 
myself  at  her  beautiful  feet 

(<I  will  not  conclude  my  letter,  monsieur  le  due,  without  thanking 
you  a  thousand  times  for  the  advice  you  have  given  me.  This  proof 
of  your  kindness  will,  if  possible  augment  the  sincere  attachment  I 
bear  to  you.  I  salute  you  with  profound  respect.* 

As  it  is  bold  to  hold  the  pen  after  having  transcribed 
anything  of  M.  de  Voltaire's,  I  leave  off  here  for  to-day. 


CHAPTER  X. 

When  is  the  presentation  to  take  place? — Conversation  on  this  sub- 
ject with  the  king — M.  de  Maupeou  and  M.  de  la  Vauguyon  — 
Conversation  on  the  same  subject  with  the  king  and  the  due  de 
Richelieu  —  M.  de  la  Vrilliere  —  M.  Bertin  —  Louis  XV.  and  the 
comtesse  —  The  king's  promise  —  The  fire-works,  an  anecdote  — 
The  Marquise  de  Castellane  —  M.  de  Maupeou  at  the  due  de 
Choiseul's  —  The  duchesse  de  Grammont 

IN  SPITE  of  the  love  of  the  duchesse  de  Grammont,  the 
king  of  Denmark  departed  at  last.  Louis  XV.  hav- 
ing resumed  his  former  habits,  I  began  to  meditate 
seriously  on  my  presentation;  and  my  friends  employed 
themselves  to  the  utmost  in  furthering  my  desires  and 
insuring  my  triumph. 

The  chancellor,  who  each  day  became  more  attached 
to  my  interests,  opened  the  campaign.  One  day,  when 
the  king  was  in  a  rage  with  the  parliaments,  the  chan- 
cellor seized  the  opportunity  to  tell  him  that  the  cabal, 
who  were  opposed  to  my  presentation,  testified  so  much 
resistance,  under  the  idea,  and  in  the  hope,  that  they 
would  be  supported  by  the  parliaments  of  Paris. 

<(  If  your  majesty, w  added  the  chancellor,  <(  had  less 
condescension  towards  these  malcontents,  they  would  fear 
your  authority  more.* 

(<You  will  see,M  replied  the  king,  "that  it  will  be  their 
audacity  which  will  urge  me  on  to  a  step,  which  other- 
wise I  should  wish  to  avoid." 

Whilst  the  hatred  which  M.  de  Maupeou  bore  towards 
the  parliaments  served  me  in  this  way,  the  love  of  M. 
de  la  Vauguyon  for  the  Jesuits  turned  to  even  more 
advantage.  The  good  duke  incessantly  talked  to  me  oi 
his  dear  Jesuits;  and  I  as  constantly  replied,  that  my 
influence  would  not  be  salutary  until  after  my  presentation^ 

(79) 


8o  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

M.  de  la  Vauguyon  had  sense  enough  to  perceive  the 
embarrassment  of  my  situation,  and  saw  that  before  I 
could  think  of  others  I  must  think  of  myself.  Having 
taken  "sweet  counsel*  with  the  powerful  heads  of  his 
company,  he  freely  gave  me  all  his  influence  with  the 
king. 

Fortune  sent  me  an  auxiliary  not  less  influential  than 
these  two  gentlemen;  I  mean  the  mare"chal  due  de 
Richelieu.  In  the  month  of  January,  1769,  he  returned 
from  his  government  of  Guienne  to  enter  on  service. 
He  had  much  credit  with  the  king,  and  this  (would 
you  believe  it?)  resulted  from  his  reputation  as  a  man 
of  intrigue.  He  told  the  king  every  thing  that  came 
into  his  head:  he  told  him  one  day,  that  the  Choiseuls 
boasted  that  he,  the  king  of  France,  never  dared  intro- 
duce his  mistress  into  the  state  apartments  at  Versailles. 

"Yes,*  added  the  duke,  <(they  boast  so  loudly,  that 
nothing  else  is  talked  of  in  the  province;  and  at  Bor- 
deaux, for  instance,  there  is  one  merchant  who,  on  the 
strength  of  the  enemies  of  the  comtesse,  has  made  a 
bet  that  she  will  never  be  presented.* 

<(  And  why  do  you  not  imprison  these  persons  ?  *  in- 
quired the  king,  angrily. 

<(  Because,  sire,  it  appears  to  me  injustice  to  punish 
the  echo  of  the  fooleries  of  Paris.* 

"I  will  conduct  myself  as  regards  the  presentation  of 
madame  du  Barry  in  the  manner  which  I  think  best. 
But  is  it  not  an  inconceivable  contrariety,  that  one  party 
should  wish  it  with  the  utmost  desire,  and  another  place 
every  obstacle  in  the  way  ?  In  truth,  I  am  very  unfor- 
tunate, and  a  cruel  tyranny  is  exercised  over  me.  * 

The  due  de  Richelieu,  not  wishing  to  appear  as  one  of 
the  tyrants  of  the  king,  gave  a  different  turn  to  the  con- 
versation. 

My  presentation  was,  however,  a  matter  of  first-rate 
importance  to  me  and  to  my  partizans,  and  the  due  de 
la  Vrilliere  was  gained  over  to  my  side,  by  making  him 
believe  that  the  king  would  yield  to  my  desires,  and  that 
then  I  should  remember  all  those  who  opposed  my  eleva- 
tion. The  due  d'Aiguillon  also  drew  over  to  my  party 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  81 

M.  Bertin,  who  bore  no  love  to  the  Choiseuls,  and  who 
saw  that  the  preponderance  of  interest  was  on  my  side  of 
the  scale.  When  I  was  assured  of  a  considerable  number 
of  defenders,  I  thought  I  might  venture  on  the  master 
stroke,  and  thus  I  went  to  work. 

One  evening  the  king  was  with  me,  and  the  MM.  de 
Maupeou  and  de  Richelieu  were  there  also.  We  were  dis- 
coursing of  different  things,  and  the  king  was  perfectly 
tranquillized,  little  anticipating  the  scene  that  was  in  store 
for  him.  I  rose  suddenly  from  my  arm-chair,  and  going 
up  to  his  majesty,  after  a  profound  courtesy  cast  myself 
at  his  feet.  Louis  XV.  would  have  raised  me,  but  I  said, 

<(  No,  I  will  remain  where  I  am  until  you  have  accorded 
me  the  favor  I  ask.* 

<(  If  you  remain  in  this  posture  I  shall  place  myself  in 
a  similar  one." 

"Well,  then,  since  you  will  not  have  me  at  your  knees 
I  will  place  myself  on  them  * ;  and  I  seated  myself  in  his 
lap  without  ceremony. 

(<  Listen  to  me,  sire, *  I  said,  (<  and  repeat  what  I  say  to 
the  king  of  France  word  for  word.  He  must  authorize 
my  presentation ;  for  else,  some  fine  day,  in  the  presence 
of  the  whole  court,  I  will  go  to  the  state  apartments,  and 
try  whether  I  shall  be  repulsed  at  the  door.* 

(<  Will  she  have  the  boldness  ?  *  inquired  the  king  to  the 
chancellor. 

(<  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,  sire.  A  female,  young,  beauti- 
ful, honored  with  your  kindness,  may  venture  to  do  any- 
thing. » 

<(  Is  it  not  distressing  to  me, *  I  added,  (<  that,  graced 
with  your  majesty's  favors,  I  remain  thus  concealed, 
whilst  women  whom  you  detest  annoy  you  with  their 
presence. * 

(<  Madame  is  right,*  replied  the  due  de  Richelieu,  <(and 
I  see  that  you  look  for  her  every  evening  where  she  is 
not,  and  where  she  ought  to  be.* 

"What!  you  too,  due  de  Richelieu,  do  you  join  the  cry 
of  the  chancellor  ?  * 

(<  I   would  tear  out   the   eyes   of  these   gentlemen,*   I 
added,  ((if  they  thought  differently  from  me.* 
6 


82  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

<(  Oh,  *  said  the  king,  laughing,  <(  this  punishment  would 
not  be  one  for  M.  Maupeou:  justice  ought  to  be  blind: 
and  as  for  you,  M.  de  Richelieu,  you  have  your  baton 
left.* 

<(  Which  he  has  nobly  gained,*  I  replied,  "by  fighting 
against  your  majesty's  enemies,  and  of  which  he  still 
continues  worthy,  by  now  defending  me  from  my  foes." 

(<  This  rebellion, "  said  the  king,  <(  cannot  last,  and  I 
see  myself  compelled  to  hold  a  lit  de  justice  (a  judicial 
sitting  or  bed)." 

"And  I  swear  to  you,  that  I  will  receive  nobody  into 
mine  until  I  have  been  presented." 

This  sally  amused  the  king,  who  said,  <(  Well,  since  it 
must  be  so,  you  shall  be  presented." 

At  this  I  leaped  on  the  king's  neck,  giving  a  cry  which 
might  have  been  heard  by  my  rivals.  After  that,  I  ad- 
vanced to  the  two  gentlemen  who  had  advocated  my  cause 
so  well,  extending  a  hand  to  each,  which  they  took  and 
kissed  with  great  gallantry. 

Louis  XV.  became  thoughtful,  and  continued  to  mutter 
between  his  teeth,  (<  I  wash  my  hands  of  it  —  they  will 
cry  out,  they  will  clamor,  but  it  must  be  so."  I  saw 
the  feelings  of  the  king,  and  took  care  not  to  allow  him 
to  go  away  in  this  state.  Whilst  I  sought  to  compose 
him  by  my  caresses,  the  due  de  Richelieu  told  us  one 
of  his  thousand  and  one  adventures,  which  he  told  so 
well.  I  know  not  if  it  will  please  you,  but  such  as  it 
is  I  shall  give  you  an  abridgment  of  it. 

(<I  was,  you  know,"  he  began,  (<  a  very  good-looking,  a 
very  wild  fellow:  women  have  no  objection  to  this.  I 

was  travelling,  and  in  my  way  thro'  D ,  M. ,  the  intend- 

ant  of  the  city,  insisted  on  my  taking  up  my  abode  at 
his  house.  His  lady  added  her  entreaties,  and  I  con- 
sented. I  must  tell  you  that  the  lady  was  handsome.  I 
had  passed  the  night  with  her ;  but  when,  on  the  next  morn- 
ing, as  I  sought  to  go  out  of  her  apartment,  I  found  the 
outer  door  double  locked  and  bolted.  I  looked  round  me 
on  all  sides,  but  found  no  egress.  Whilst  I  was  lamenting 
this  with  the  lady's  femme-de-chambre,  who  was  nearly  as 
much  distressed  as  her  mistress,  I  saw  in  a  detached 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  83 

closet  a  great  many  machines  covered  with  paper,  and 
all  of  different  shapes.  On  inquiry,  I  was  informed  that 
the  following  Monday  was  the  lady's  birthday,  which  they 
were  to  celebrate  with  fireworks.  I  looked  at  the  beauti- 
ful fusees,  and  brilliant  suns  with  much  admiration. 
Suddenly,  thinking  of  the  lady's  honor  which  might  be 
compromised,  I  took  a  light  and  set  fire  to  a  Roman 
candle ;  in  a  moment  the  whole  was  in  flames,  and  every- 
body took  alarm.  Great  was  the  consternation  in  the 
house,  which  was  turned  out  of  windows;  and  in  the  up- 
roar, the  house-door  being  broken  open,  a  crowd  of  per- 
sons rushed  in;  I  ran  this  way  and  that  way;  everybody 
admired  and  praised  my  exertions.  I  was  compelled  to 
quit  the  house  at  last,  and  ordered  my  carriage,  whilst 
M.  the  intendant  was  thanking  me  for  the  vast  service  I 
had  rendered  him.  I  assure  you,  sire,  that  I  never  laughed 
more  heartily. w 

This  tale  amused  the  king,  and  M.  de  Richelieu  as- 
sured him  that  he  had  never  told  it  before.  A  thousand 
considerations  had  induced  him  to  keep  it  to  himself 
until  the  present  time.  <(  But  now, n  said  "he,  <(  the  third 
generation  of  madame  1"  intendante  is  no  longer  young, 
and  I  have  no  fear  of  being  called  out  to  fight  a  duel. w  * 

Next  day  there  was  a  general  rumor  of  my  presenta- 
tion. My  friends  asserted  that  I  had  the  king's  promise. 
This  was  imprudent  on  their  part,  and  they  injured  my 
interest  whilst  they  flattered  my  vanity.  They  put  the 
Choiseul  cabal  to  work,  who  intrigued  so  well  that  not 
a  person  could  be  found  who  would  perform  the  office  of 
introductress.  You  know  the  custom:  the  presentation 

*The  due  de  Richelieu  preserved  his  coolness  and  talent  at  rep- 
artee in  the  most  trivial  circumstances.  The  story  is  well  known 
of  the  man  who  came  to  ask  for  his  aid,  saying  they  were  related. 
"How?®  asked  the  duke.  <(Sir,  by  Adam.®  <(Give  this  man  a 
penny, »  said  the  duke,  turning  to  a  gentleman  of  his  train;  <(and  if 
all  of  his  relations  give  him  as  much  he  will  soon  be  a  richer  man 
than  I  am.** 

If  our  readers  will  turn  to  «  Joe  Miller,*  page  45,  they  will  find  this 
jest  attributed  to  the  witty  duke  of  Buckingham.  It  is  a  very  good 
joke  for  a  duke,  but  savors  more  of  a  desire  to  be  witty  than  to  be 
charitable. 


84  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

is  effected  by  the  intermediation  of  another  lady,  who 
conducts  the  person  to  be  presented  to  the  princesses, 
and  introduces  her.  This  custom  had  passed  into  a  law, 
and  it  would  have  been  too  humiliating  to  me  to  have 
dispensed  with  it. 

This  was  a  dire  blow  for  me:  it  distressed  me  sadly, 
and  I  wept  over  it  with  my  friends.  The  due  de  Riche- 
lieu said  to  me, 

(<  With  money  and  promises  everything  can  be  managed 
at  court.  There  is  no  place  where  they  know  better  how 
to  value  complaisance,  and  the  price  at  which  it  is  sold. 
Do  not  give  yourself  any  uneasiness;  we  shall  find  the 
lady  we  want.® 

And  we  did  find  her,  but  her  compliance  was  dearly 
bought.  Two  ladies  who  were  applied  to  stipulated  for 
most  outrageous  conditions.  One,  the  marquise  de  Cas- 
tellane,  consented  to  present  me,  but  demanded  that  she 
should  be  created  a  duchess,  and  have  a  gift  of  five 
hundred  thousand  livres:  the  other,  whose  name  I  forget, 
asked  for  her  husband  the  order  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and 
a  government,  a  regiment  for  her  son,  and  for  herself 
I  forget  what.  These  ladies  seemed  to  think,  like  Don 
Quixote  and  Sancho  Panza,  that  governments  and  five 
hundred  thousand  livres  were  to  be  picked  up  on  the 
highway.  In  truth,  they  spoke  out  without  disguise. 

At  this  juncture  the  chancellor  had  a  singular  conver- 
sation concerning  me  with  the  Choiseuls.  He  had  been 
one  morning  to  call  on  the  duke,  and  whilst  they  were 
discoursing,  the  duchesse  de  Grammont  came  into  her 
brother's  apartment,  and  entered  at  once  into  conversa- 
tion. 

w  Ah,  my  lord,  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  Your  new  friends 
carry  you  off  from  your  old  ones.  You  are  wrong  to 
adore  the  rising  sun." 

*  That  was  the  idolatry  of  a  great  number  of  persons : 
but  I  beg  of  you  to  be  so  very  kind   as  not  to  speak  to 
me  in  figures,  if  you  would  wish  me  to  understand  you." 

"  Oh,  you  play  off  the  ignorant.  You  know  as  well  as 
I  do  what  I  mean,  and  your  daily  visits  to  this  filled 

*  Which,  madam e  ?    There  are  so  many  at  court ! w 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  8$ 

This  sarcastic  reply  made  the  brother  and  sister  smile; 
both  of  them  being  fully  competent  to  understand  the 
merit  of  an  epigram.  The  duke  fearing  lest  the  duchess 
should  go  too  far,  judging  by  what  she  had  already  said, 
thus  addressed  him: 

<(  You  are,  then,  one  of  the  adorers  of  the  comtesse 
du  Barry  ?  » 

<(  Yes,  monsieur  le  due ;  and  would  to  God  that,  for  your 
own  interest,  you  would  be  so  too ! }> 

<(  My  brother  set  foot  in  the  house  of  this  creature !  " 

(<  Why  not,  madame  ?  We  see  good  company  there ;  the 
prince  de  Soubise,  the  dues  de  la  Trimouille,  de  la  Vau- 
guyon,  Duras,  Richelieu,  d'Aiguillon,  and  many  others, 
not  to  mention  the  king  of  France.  A  gentleman  may 
be  seen  in  such  company  without  any  disgrace. M 

<(  Monsieur  le  chevalier, "  replied  the  duke,  (<  to  speak 
candidly  to  you,  allow  me  to  ask,  if  any  one  who  would 
have  the  friendship  of  our  house  would  be  seen  in  that 
of  the  lady  in  question  ? w 

((  Pardon  me,  duke ;  that  is  not  the  question.  Allow  me, 
in  turn,  to  ask  you,  why  those  of  your  house  should  not 
go  there?  This,  I  think,  is  the  real  question.* 

(<  You  offer  us  a  splendid  alliance !  w  said  the  duchesse 
with  anger. 

w  I  offer  nothing,  madame :  I  only  'inquire.  For  my 
part,  I  see  no  legitimate  motive  for  this  proscription  of 
madame  du  Barry." 

(<  A  woman  without  character !  " 

<(  Character !  Why,  madame,  who  has  any  in  these  days  ? 
M.  de  Crebillon  the  younger  would  be  at  a  loss  to  tell  us 
where  to  find  it.* 

This  reply  made  the  duke  and  his  sister  smile  again. 
The  chancellor  went  on  thus: 

<(  It  appears  to  me  that  persons  were  less  difficult  in 
the  times  of  madame  de  Pompadour." 

(<  But  a  creature  who  has  been  so  low  in  society !  w 

<(  Have  you  seen  her  so,  madame  ?  And  supposing  it 
has  been  the  case,  do  we  interdict  all  ladies  of  conduct 
not  less  blamable  from  an  introduction  at  court.  How 
many  can  you  enumerate,  madame,  who  have  led  a  life 


86  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

much  more  scandalous  ?  Let  us  count  them  on  our 
fingers.  First,  the  mare"chale  de  Luxembourg,  one; 
then  — » 

"Then  the  comtesse  de  Choiseul,  my  sister-in-law,* 
added  the  duke ;  <(  we  know  it  as  well  as  you,  sir.  But 
this  is  not  the  matter  in  question.  You  are  not  ignorant 
that  our  enemies  surround  this  madame  du  Barry ;  and  it 
is  of  your  alliance  with  them  that  I  complain. }> 

"You  see  everything  with  a  jaundiced  eye,  monsieur 
le  due.  But  if  you  fear  the  influence  of  this  lady  with 
the  king,  why  do  you  not  present  yourself  at  her  apart- 
ments ?  She  would  be  delighted  to  receive  you.  * 

<(  No,  no !  *  cried  the  duchess,  (<  my  brother  will  never 
present  himself  to  such  a  creature.  If  he  would  degrade 
himself  so  low,  I  would  never  forgive  him  as  long  as  I 
live.  Since  you  show  your  gratitude  for  what  has  been 
done  for  you  by  leaguing  yourself  with  this  woman,  tell 
her  from  me  that  I  detest  her,  and  that  I  will  never  rest 
until  I  have  sent  her  back  again  to  her  dunghill.* 

<(  Madame, }>  replied  the  chancellor,  (<  I  will  evince  my 
gratitude  to  the  duke  by  not  delivering  such  a  message  * ; 
and  the  chancellor  went  out. 

M.  de  Maupeou  came  to  tell  me  the  whole  of  this  con- 
versation, which  Chon  wrote  down  under  his  dictation, 
that  I  might  show  it  to  the  king.  You  will  see  in  my 
next  letter  what  resulted  from  all  this,  and  how  the  ill- 
timed  enmity  of  the  Choiseuls  served  my  interests  most 
materially. 


CHAPTER   XI.       !,V 

A  word  concerning  the  duchesse  de  Choiseul —  The  apartment  of  the 
comte  de  Noailles  —  The  Noailles  —  Intrigues  for  the  presentation 
—  The  comte  de  Beam — M.  Morand  once  more — Visit  of  the 
comtesse  Beam  to  the  comtesse  du  Barry  —  Conversation  —  In- 
terested complaisance  —  The  king  and  the  comtesse  du  Barry  — 
Dispute  and  reconciliation. 

I  SHOWED  the  king  this  conversation,  in  which  I  had  been 
so  shamefully  vilified  by  the  duchesse  de  Grammont. 
Louis  XV.  was  very  much  inclined  to  testify  his  dis- 
approbation to  this  lady,  but  was  withheld  by  the  con- 
sideration he  felt  for  the  duke  and  (particularly)  the 
duchesse  de  Choiseul.  This  latter  lady  was  not  beloved 
by  her  husband,  but  her  noble  qualities,  her  good  heart, 
made  her  an  object  of  adoration  to  the  whole  court.  You 
could  not  speak  to  any  person  of  madame  de  Choiseul 
without  hearing  an  eulogium  in  reply.  The  king  himself 
was  full  of  respect  towards  her;  so  much  so,  that,  on  the 
disgrace  of  the  duke,  he  in  some  sort  asked  her  pardon  for 
the  chagrin  which  he  had  caused  her.  Good  conduct  is 
no  claim  to  advancement  at  court,  but  it  procures  the 
esteem  of  the  courtiers.  Remember,  my  friend,  this 
moral  maxim:  there  is  not  one  of  greater  truth  in  my 
whole  journal. 

The  king,  unable  to  interpose  his  authority  in  a  woman's 
quarrel,  was  yet  determined  on  giving  a  striking  proof  of 
the  attachment  he  bore  to  me.  I  had  up  to  this  period 
occupied  Lebel's  apartments  in  the  chateau:  it  was  not 
befitting  my  station,  and  the  king  thought  he  would  give 
me  those  of  madame  de  Pompadour,  to  which  I  had  some 
claim.  This  apartment  was  now  occupied  by  the  comte 
de  Noailles,  governor  of  the  chateau,  who,  as  great  a 
fool  as  the  rest  of  his  family,  began  to  exclaim  most 

(87) 


88  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

lustily  when  the  king's  will  was  communicated  to  him. 
He  came  to  his  majesty  complaining  and  lamenting.  The 
king  listened  very  quietly  to  his  list  of  grievances;  and 
when  he  had  moaned  and  groaned  out  his  dolorous  tale, 
his  majesty  said  to  him, 

(<  My  dear  count,  who  built  the  chateau  of  Versailles  ? " 

*  Why,  sire,  your  illustrious  grandfather. " 

"Well,  then,  as  I  am  at  home,  I  mean  to  be  master. 
You  may  establish  the  seat  of  your  government  where 
you  will ;  but  in  two  hours  the  place  must  be  free.  I  am 
in  earnest." 

The  comte  de  Noailles  departed  much  disconcerted, 
took  away  his  furniture,  and  the  same  evening  I  installed 
myself  in  the  apartments.  You  must  think  that  this  was 
a  fresh  cause  of  chagrin,  and  created  me  more  enemies. 
There  are  certain  families  who  look  upon  the  court  as 
their  hereditary  domain:  the  Noailles  was  one  of  them. 
However,  there  is  no  grounds  of  pretension  to  such  a 
right.  Their  family  took  its  rise  from  a  certain  Adhemar 
de  Noailles,  capitoul  of  Toulouse,  ennobled,  according  to 
all  appearance,  by  the  exercise  of  his  charge  in  1459. 
The  grandfather  of  these  Noailles  was  a  domestic  of  M. 
de  Turenne's,  and  his  family  was  patronized  at  court  by 
madame  de  Maintenon.  Everybody  knows  this.  But  to 
return  to  my  presentation. 

M.  de  Maupeou,  whose  good  services  I  can  never  suffi- 
ciently vaunt,  came  to  me  one  day,  and  said,  <(  I  think 
that  I  have  found  a  lady  presenteuse.  I  have  a  dame  of 
quality  who  will  do  what  we  want." 

*  Who  is  it  ?  "  said  I,  with  joy. 

*  A  comtesse  d'Escarbagnas,  a  litigious  lady,  with  much 
ambition  and  avarice.     You  must  see  her,   talk  with  her, 
and  understand  each  other." 

"  But  where  can  we  see  her  ?  * 

*  That  is   easy   enough.     She  claims  from  the  house  of 
Saluces  a  property  of  three  hundred  thousand  livres:   she 
is   very  greedy  for  money.     Send  some  one  to  her,  who 
shall  whisper  in  her   ear   that  I  see   you  often,  and  that 
your  protection  can  serve  her  greatly  in  her  lawsuit:  she 
will  come  to  you  post  haste." 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  89 

I  approved  the  counsel  of  the  chancellor;  and,  in  con- 
cert with  comte  Jean,  I  once  again  made  use  of  the 
ministry  of  the  good  M.  Morand,  whom  I  had  recompensed 
largely  for  his  good  and  loyal  services.  This  was,  how- 
ever, the  last  he  ever  rendered  me;  for  I  learned  some 
months  after  my  presentation  that  he  had  died  of  indi- 
gestion :  a  death  worthy  of  such  a  life  and  such  a  man. 

M.  Morand,  after  having  found  out  the  attorney  of  ma- 
dame  the  comtesse  de  Beam,  went  to  him  under  some 
pretext,  and  then  boasted  of  my  vast  influence  with  the 
chancellor.  The  lawyer,  to  whom  madame  de  Beam  was 
to  pay  a  visit  on  that  very  day,  did  not  fail  to  repeat 
what  M.  Morand  had  told  him.  The  next  day  the  comtesse, 
like  a  true  litigant,  called  upon  him :  she  related  her  affair 
to  him,  and  begged  him  to  use  his  interest  with  me. 

<(  I  would  do  it  with  pleasure, }>  said  the  worthy,  (<  if  I 
did  not  think  it  better  that  you  should  see  the  comtesse 
du  Barry  yourself.  I  can  assure  you  that  she  will  be 
delighted  to  aid  you.w 

Madame  de  Beam  then  came  to  me  with  M.  Morand. 
Gracious  heavens!  how  simple  we  were  to  take  so  much 
pains  with  this  lady :  had  we  known  her  better  we  should 
not  have  been  so  long  in  coming  to  the  point.  Scarcely 
any  thing  was  said  at  this  first  visit:  I  contented  myself 
with  assuring  her  of  my  good  will.  On  the  same  day  the 
vicomte  Adolphe  du  Barry  told  his  father  -  that  the  young 
de  Beam  had  asked  him  the  evening  before,  if  I  had 
found  a  stepmother  to  present  me ;  that  in  case  I  had  not, 
his  mother  would  not  refuse  such  a  service,  should  it  be 
desired  by  the  king.  Comte  Jean  and  I  perfectly  under- 
stood the  lady.  She  came  again,  and  I  renewed  the  ex- 
pression of  my  desire  to  be  useful  to  her.  She  replied 
in  a  hackneyed  phrase,  that  she  should  be  charmed  to 
prove  her  gratitude  to  me.  I  took  her  word. 

(<  Madame,*  said  I  to  her,  <(you  cannot  be  ignorant  that 
I  ardently  desire  to  be  presented.  My  husband  has  sent 
in  his  proofs  of  nobility,  which  have  been  received;  I 
now  only  want  a  marraine  (godmother);  if  you  will 
officiate  in  that  capacity,  I  shall  owe  you  a  debt  of  grati- 
tude all  my  life." 


90  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

"  Madame,  I  am  at  the  king's  orders. " 

"  But,  madame,  the  king  has  nothing  to  do  with  this. 
I  wish  to  be  presented ;  will  you  be  my  introductress  ?  * 

<(  Madame,  the  first  wish  of  my  heart  is  to  be  agree- 
able to  you;  I  only  desire  that  the  king  indicate  in 
some  way,  no  matter  how  trifling,  his  will  on  this 
point. " 

"  Well,  then,  *  I  exclaimed,  with  impatience,  "  I  see  you 
will  not  give  me  a  direct  reply.  Why  should  you  wish 
the  king  to  interfere  in  what  does  not  concern  him  ?  Is 
it  your  intention  to  oblige  me ;  yes  or  no  ?  * 

"Yes,  madame,  certainly;  but  you  must  be  aware  of 
the  tremendous  cabal  which  is  raised  against  you.  Can 
I  contend  against  it  alone,  and  who  will  sustain  me 
thro'  it?" 

(<  I  will  to  the  full  extent  of  my  power  as  long  as  I 
am  here,  and  the  king  will  always  do  so.  I  can  assure 
you,  that  he  will  be  grateful  for  your  exertions  in  my 
behalf.* 

<(  I  should  like  to  have  half  a  line  from  his  majesty  as 
a  protection  and  assurance." 

"And  that  you  will  not  get.  The  king's  signature 
must  not  be  compromised  in  this  affair,  and  I  do  not 
think  I  ought  to  ask  for  it;  let  us  therefore,  madame, 
cease  this  discourse,  since  you  ask  such  terms  for  your 
complaisance. " 

The  comtesse  de  Beam  rose;  I  did  the  same;  and  we 
parted  mutually  dissatisfied  with  each  other. 

My  friends,  my  brother-in-law,  and  his  sisters,  im- 
patiently awaited  the  result  of  my  conversation  with 
madame  de  Beam.  I  told  them  all  that  had  passed; 
giving  my  opinion  of  this  lady  as  I  thought  her  —  a 
malicious  provoking  creature. 

"How  soon  you  torment  yourself,"  said  the  chancellor 
to  me.  "  Do  you  not  see  that  this  woman  wants  a  price 
to  be  bidden  for  her?  She  is  yours,  body  and  soul,  but 
first  of  all  she  must  be  paid." 

"Let  that  be  no  obstacle,"  said  comte  Jean,  "we  will 
give  her  money,  but  present  us  she  must." 

On  this  it  was  decided,  that,  on  the  following  morning, 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  91 

my  brother-in-law  should  go  to  Paris  to  find  M.  Morand, 
and  get  him  to  undertake  the  arrangement. 

The  next  day  my  brother-in-law  went  to  M.  Morand's, 
and  when  he  had  disclosed  his  message  concerning  the 
comtesse,  the  good  Morand  began  to  laugh.  He  told  the 
count,  that  the  previous  evening  this  lady  had  sent  for 
him;  and,  on  going  to  her  house,  madame  de  Beam,  as 
a  set-off  against  the  inconveniences  which  might  result 
to  her  from  being  the  instrument  of  my  presentation,  had 
stipulated  for  certain  compensations;  such,  for  instance, 
as  a  sum  of  two  hundred  thousand  livres,  a  written 
promise  of  a  regiment  for  her  son,  and  for  herself  an 
appointment  in  the  establishment  of  the  future  dauphine. 
This  was  the  point  aimed  at  by  all  the  ambitious  courtiers. 
Comte  Jean  thought  these  conditions  preposterous.  He 
had  a  carte  blanche  from  me,  and  desired  M.  Morand  to 
offer  the  lady  one  hundred  thousand  livres,  and  to  add 
an  assurance  that  the  king  should  be  importuned  to  place 
young  Beam  advantageously,  and  to  station  the  mother 
to  her  wishes;  and  thereupon  my  brother-in-law  returned 
to  Versailles. 

The  comte  Jean  had  scarcely  returned  an  hour,  when 
we  received  a  letter  from  M.  Morand,  stating,  that  he 
had  gone,  in  consequence  of  the  instructions  of  comte 
Jean,  to  the  comtesse  de  Beam;  that  he  had  found  the 
lady  pliant  enough  on  the  first  point,  and  disposed  to  con- 
tent herself  with  the  half  of  the  sum  originally  demanded ; 
that  on  point  the  second,  I  mean  the  appointments  of 
herself  and  son,  she  would  come  to  no  compromise,  and 
stuck  hard  and  fast  to  the  written  promise  of  the  king; 
that  he,  Morand,  thought  this  an  obstacle  not  to  be  over- 
come unless  we  subscribed  to  her  wishes.  This  letter 
put  me  in  an  excessively  ill-humor.  I  saw  my  presenta- 
tion deferred  till  doom's  day,  or,  at  least,  adjourned  sine 
die.  I  questioned  my  friends:  the  unanimous  advice  was 
that  I  ought  to  mention  it  to  the  king  at  one  of  his 
evening  visits;  and  I  determined  to  do  so  without  loss 
of  time. 

When  his  majesty  came  I  received  him  very  graciously, 
and  then  said  to  him, 


92  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

"  Congratulate  me,  sire ;    I  have  found  my  godmother. " 

<(  Ah,  so  much  the  better. *  (I  know  that,  at  the  bottom 
of  his  heart,  he  said  "  so  much  the  worse. * ) 

"  And  who, *  asked  the  king,  with  impatience,  (<  may  the 
lady  be  ?  » 

"  Madame  de  Beam,  a  lady  of  quality  in  her  own  right, 
and  of  high  nobility  on  her  husband's  side.* 

"Yes,  he  was  a  garde  du  corps,  and  the  son  has  just 
left  the  pages.  Ah!  she  will  present  you  then.  That's 
well;  I  shall  feel  favored  by  her.* 

"  Would   it   not  be  best,  sire,  to  tell  her  so  yourself  ?  * 

"  Yes,  yes,  certainly ;  but  after  the  ceremony.  * 

<(  And  why  not  previously  ?  * 

<(  Why  ?  because  I  do  not  wish  to  appear  to  have  forced 
your  presentation.* 

"  Well,  then,  *  I  replied,  striking  the  floor  with  my  foot, 
(<  you  will  not  do  for  me  what  you  would  do  for  a  woman 
who  is  a  complete  stranger  to  you.  Many  thanks  for 
your  excessive  kindness.* 

<(Well,  well,  do  not  scold.  Anger  does  not  become 
you.* 

"No  more  than  this  indifference  suits  you;  it  is  cruel. 
If  you  recede  from  saying  a  word,  what  will  you  do 
when  I  tell  you  of  the  conditions  of  madame  de  Beam  ?  * 

"  What  does  the  good  comtesse  ask  for  ?  * 

"Things  past  conception.* 

«  What  ? » 

"  She  has  stipulations  unlimited.  * 

"  But  what  are  they  then  ?  * 

"A  hundred  thousand  livres  for  herself.* 

"What,  only  that?  We  will  grant  so  much.* 

"  Then  a  regiment  for  her  son.  * 

"  Oh,  he  is  the  wood  they  make  colonels  of,  and  if  he 
behave  well  —  * 

"  But  then !  She  wishes  to  be  annexed  in  some  station 
or  other  to  the  household  of  the  future  dauphine* 

"  Oh,  that  is  impossible :  all  the  selections  have  been 
made:  but  we  will  make  an  equivalent  by  placing  one  of 
her  family  about  the  person  of  one  of  the  princes,  my 
grandson.  Is  this  all  ?  * 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY 


93 


(<  Yes,  sire,  that  is  all,  with  one  small  formality  excepted. 
This  lady,  who  is  one  of  much  punctilio,  only  considers 
written  engagements  as  binding.  She  wishes  for  one 
word  in  your  majesty's  hand- writing — w 

ft  A  most  impertinent  woman ! w  cried  the  king,  walking 
with  rapid  strides  up  and  down  my  room. — (<  She  has 
dared  not  to  believe  me  on  my  word!  Writing!  —  a 
signature!  She  mistrusts  me  as  she  would  the  lowest 
scribbler  of  France.  A  writing!  My  signature!  My 
grandfather,  Louis  XIV.,  repented  having  given  his  to 
Charost.  I  will  not  commit  a  similar  error. }> 

(<  But,  sire,  when  a  prince  has  a  real  desire  to  keep 
his  word,  it  is  of  little  import  whether  he  gives  it  in 
writing. w 

At  these  words,  Louis  XV.  frowned  sternly,  but  as  he 
had  the  best  sense  in  the  world,  he  saw  that  he  was 
wrong;  and  having  no  reply  to  make,  he  determined  to 
flee  away.  I  ran  after  him,  and  taking  him  by  the  arm, 
he  said,  with  assumed  anger,  which  did  not  deceive 
me:  — 

<(  Leave  me,  madame,  you  have  offended  my  honor. w 

"Well,  then,  monsieur  la  France,®  replied  I,  assuming 
also  a  scolding  tone,  "I  will  give  you  satisfaction. 
Choose  your  time,  weapons,  and  place;  I  will  meet  you, 
and  we  shall  see  whether  you  have  courage  to  kill  a 
woman  who  lives  for  you  only,  and  whom  you  render 
the  most  miserable  creature  in  existence." 

Louis  XV.  gave  me  a  kiss,  and  laughingly  said,  <(  I 
ought  to  make  you  sleep  in  the  Bastille  to-night. }> 

<(  I  am  then  more  merciful  than  you,  for  I  think  I 
shall  make  you  sleep  in  the  couch  you  love  best." 

This  reply  amused  the  king  excessively,  and  he  him- 
self proposed  to  send  for  madame  de  Beam.  I  should 
speak  of  my  presentation  before  him,  and  then  without 
making  any  positive  concession,  he  would  see  what  could 
be  done  to  satisfy  her. 

For  want  of  any  other,  I  accepted  this   mezzo  termine. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

The  comtesse  de  Beam  —  The  supper  —  Louis  XV. —  Intrigues  against 
my  presentation  —  M.  de  Roquelaure  —  The  scalded  foot — The 
comtesse  d'Aloigny  —  The  due  d'Aiguillon  and  madame  de  Beam 
— Anger  of  the  king's  daughters  —  Madame  Adelaide  and  the 
comtesse  du  Barry  —  Dissatisfaction  of  the  king. 

MMORAND  was  again  put  in  requisition,  and  went 
.  from  me  to  ask  madame  de  Beam  to  come  and 
sup  at  my  apartments.  We  were  in  committee  — 
my  sisters-in-law,  myself,  and  comte  Jean.  The  comtesse 
made  some  difficulties  at  first,  under  pretence  that 
she  was  afraid  to  refuse  me  a  second  time.  Our  mes- 
senger assured  her  by  saying,  that  a  supper  would  not 
bind  her  to  any  thing,  and  that  she  should  still  be  at 
liberty  to  give  any  reply  she  pleased.  Madame  de  Beam 
allowed  herself  to  be  persuaded,  and  sent  me  word  that 
she  would  accept  my  invitation.  She  would  have  re- 
flected twice  before  she  so  far  committed  herself,  had  she 
at  all  suspected  the  turn  we  meant  to  serve  her.  But  I 
saw  by  the  wording  of  her  note,  that  she  still  hoped 
that  the  king  would  be  induced  to  grant  me  the  written 
promise  which  I  asked  for  her. 

She  came.  I  received  her  with  all  possible  courtesy, 
and  yet  not  with  much  heartiness.  I  could  not  help  re- 
membering the  vexatious  terms  she  set  upon  her  com- 
plaisance. However,  the  supper  was  gay  enough,  comte 
Jean  and  my  sisters-in-law,  who  knew  very  well  how  to 
dissemble,  did  the  honors  in  a  most  agreeable  way.  On 
leaving  table  we  went  into  the  drawing-room,  and  then 
began  to  discuss  the  serious  question  which  had  brought 
us  together.  At  the  first  words  which  comte  Jean 
uttered,  madame  de  Beam,  taking  my  hands  with  a 
respectful  familiarity,  said  to  me:  — 
(94) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  95 

<(  I  hope,  madame,  that  you  will  not  have  a  bad  opin- 
ion of  me,  if  I  put  such  conditions  to  my  desire  of 
obliging  you.  The  situation  of  my  family  requires  it,  but 
it  is  only  a  trifle  for  the  king  to  grant.* 

<(  Much  more  than  you  imagine,  madame,"  I  replied. 
"  The  king  does  not  care  to  involve  himself  in  such 
engagements.  He  does  not  like,  moreover,  that  his 
sacred  word  should  be  doubted. }> 

<(  Ah  ?  *  replied  the  cunning  creature,  *  heaven  forbid 
that  I  should  not  blindly  trust  to  the  king's  word,  but 
his  memory  may  fail,  or  he,  like  other  men,  may  for- 
get8 

<(  Madame, }>  replied  comte  Jean,  with  the  utmost  gravity, 
<(  madame  is  a  lady  as  full  of  prudence  as  of  kindness, 
but  yet  a  little  too  exacting.  Madame  wishes  to  have  a 
promise  signed  for  herself  and  son:  that  is  too  much. 
Why  does  she  not  content  herself  in  dividing  the  diffi- 
culty, by  satisfying  herself  with  a  verbal  promise  for 
what  concerns  herself,  and  with  a  written  engagement 
for  what  relates  to  her  son  ? w 

<(  Mon  Dieu,  monsieur, w  replied  the  countess,  (<  I  am 
anxious  to  arrange  all  to  our  mutual  satisfaction.  But 
his  majesty  would  not  surely  refuse  the  entreaties  of  ma- 
dame for  what  I  ask.w 

<(  I  will  speak  to  him  of  it  the  first  time  I  see  him. >} 

<{Oh,  you  are  a  charming  woman.  You  will  obtain  all 
from  the  king,  and  make  a  sure  friend  —  w 

<(  Whose  friendship  is  very  difficult  to  acquire,"  said  I, 
interrupting  her. 

The  countess  would  have  replied  to  this,  when  my  first 
valet-de-chambre,  opening  the  two  folding-doors  of  the 
room,  announced  the  king. 

At  this  unexpected  name  my  guest  trembled,  and  in 
spite  of  the  thick  rouge  which  covered  her  cheeks,  I 
perceived  she  turned  pale.  She  then  saw  the  scene  we 
had  prepared  for  her:  she  wished  herself  a  hundred 
leagues  off:  but  she  could  do  nothing,  but  remain  where 
she  was.  I  took  her  by  the  hand,  all  trembling  as  she 
was,  and  presented  her  to  the  king,  saying, 

<(  Sire,  I    now   do    for   this   lady,  in    my   own   drawing- 


96  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

room,  what  she  will  have  the  kindness  to  do  for  me  at 
the  state-chamber." 

"Ah,"  replied  the  king,  <(is  it  madame  de  Beam  that 
you  present  to  me  ?  I  am  indeed  delighted.  Her  hus- 
band was  one  of  my  faithful  servants:  I  was  much 
pleased  with  her  son  when  he  was  one  of  pages,  and  I 
perceive  that  she  herself  is  desirous  of  testifying  to  me 
her  attachment  to  my  person.  I  thank  you,  madame; 
you  cannot  confer  a  greater  favor  on  me,  and  I  shall 
embrace  every  opportunity  of  proving  to  you  how  much 
satisfaction  your  conduct  affords  me." 

Each  word  that  the  king  uttered  went  to  the  heart  of 
the  countess.  However,  making  a  virtue  of  necessity,  she 
replied,  that  she  was  proud  and  happy  at  what  the  king 
had  said  to  her,  and  that  it  would  be  her  constant  aim 
to  please  his  majesty,  flattering  herself  that  the  king 
would  remember  the  services  of  the  Beam  family,  and 
would  think  of  her  in  the  dispensation  of  his  bounties. 

"You  may  rely  on  it,  madame, "  replied  Louis  XV., 
"especially  if  the  comtesse  du  Barry  applies  to  me  in 
your  behalf." 

Then,  turning  towards  me,  "  When,  then,  is  this  redoubt- 
able presentation  to  take  place  ?  " 

"On  the  day,  sire,  when  your  majesty  shall  think 
proper,"  I  replied. 

"  Well !  I  will  send  the  due  de  Richelieu  to  you,  who 
will  arrange  the  whole." 

This  settled,  the  subject  was  turned,  but  madame  de 
Beam  lost  her  tongue  entirely.  In  spite  of  all  her  en- 
deavors, her  forehead  became  contracted  every  moment, 
and  I  am  sure  she  went  away  vexed  and  disappointed. 

The  following  morning,  the  comte  Jean  and  my  sister- 
in-law  went  to  her  house.  They  testified  their  regret  for 
what  had  occurred  the  previous  evening;  they  assured  her 
that  we  would  not  take  any  advantage  of  the  condition- 
less  engagement  which  she  had  made  to  present  me,  and 
that  altho'  it  was  impossible  to  ask  the  required  guarantees 
from  the  king,  still  we  should  most  undeviatingly  adhere 
to  the  clauses  of  the  treaty:  they  added,  that  they  came 
to  enquire  when  she  should  choose  to  receive  the  hundred 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  97 

thousand  livres.  The  countess  replied,  that  in  spite  of 
the  real  disadvantage  which  she  must  henceforward  labor 
under  in  this  affair,  she  felt  great  friendship  for  me,  and 
would  not  refuse  to  oblige  me,  and  she  flattered  herself 
that  I  would  espouse  her  cause  with  the  king.  The 
comte  Jean  assured  her  of  this,  and  settled  with  her  the 
period  of  the  payment  of  the  hundred  thousand  livres, 
which  were  to  be  paid  at  sight  on  her  drawing  on  M.  de 
la  Borde,  the  court-banker. 

Thus  then  my  presentation  was  an  assured  matter: 
nothing  now  could  prevent  it,  at  least  I  fancied  so  to 
myself.  I  reckoned  without  my  host ;  I  did  not  know  yet 
all  the  malice  of  a  courtier  lady  or  gentleman.  As  it 
was,  however,  M.  de  Chpiseul  and  his  vile  sister  had 
gained  over  one  of  my  servants,  for  they  knew  all  that 
had  passed.  They  soon  learned  that  madame  de  Beam  had 
come  to  supper  with  me,  and  that  after  supper  a  visit  of 
the  king's  had  decided  this  lady  on  my  presentation:  this 
they  determined  to  prevent. 

For  this  end,  they  despatched  as  ambassador  the  chev- 
alier de  Coigny  to  the  house  of  madame  de  Beam.  He, 
following  the  instruction,  sought  by  turns  to  seduce  and 
intimidate  the  countess,  but  all  went  for  nothing.  Madame 
de  Beam  told  the  chevalier  de  Coigny,  that  she  had  been 
with  me  to  ask  my  influence  with  the  chancellor.  The 
chevalier  left  her  without  being  able  to  obtain  any  other 
information. 

This  bad  success  did  not  dishearten  the  Choiseuls. 
They  sent  this  time  to  madame  de  Beam,  M.  de  Roque- 
laure,  bishop  of  Senlis,  and  grand  almoner  to  the  king. 
This  prelate  was  much  liked  at  court,  and  in  high  favor 
with  mesdames  (the  king's  daughters).  We  were  good 
friends  together  at  last,  but  in  this  particular  he  was 
very  near  doing  me  great  wrong.  M.  de  Roquelaure 
having  called  on  madame  de  Beam,  told  her  that  he  well 
knew  the  nature  of  her  communications  with  me. 

<(Do  not  natter  yourself,*  said  he,  <(that  you  will  ob- 
tain thro'  the  influence  of  the  comtesse  du  Barry,  all  that 
has  been  promised  you.  You  will  have  opposed  to  you 
the  most  powerful  adversaries  and  most  august  person- 
7 


98  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

ages.  It  cannot  be  concealed  from  you,  that  mesdames 
contemplate  the  presentation  of  this  creature  with  the 
utmost  displeasure.  They  will  not  fail  to  obtain  great 
influence  over  the  future  dauphin,  and  will  do  you  mis- 
chief with  him;  so  that,  whether  in  the  actual  state  of 
things,  or  in  that  which  the  age  and  health  of  the  king 
must  lead  us  to  anticipate,  you  will  be  in  a  most  unfor- 
tunate situation  at  court.* 

The  old  bishop,  with  his  mischievous  frankness,  cate- 
chised madame  de  Beam  so  closely,  that  at  length  she 
replied,  that  so  much  respect  and  deference  did  she  en- 
tertain towards  the  princesses,  that  she  would  not  present 
me  until  they  should  accord  their  permission  for  me 
to  appear.  M.  de  Roquelaure  took  this  reply  to  the 
Choiseuls.  Madame  de  Grammont,  enchanted,  thinking 
the  point  already  gained,  sent  madame  de  Beam  an  in- 
vitation to  supper  the  next  day,  but  this  was  not  the 
countess's  game.  She  was  compelled  to  decide  promptly, 
and  she  thought  to  preserve  a  strict  neutrality  until  fresh 
orders  should  issue.  What  do  you  suppose  she  did  ?  She 
wrote  to  us,  madame  de  Grammont  and  myself,  that  she 
had  scalded  her  foot,  and  that  it  was  impossible  for  her 
to  go  from  home. 

On  receiving  her  note  I  believed  myself  betrayed,  for- 
saken. Comte  Jean  and  I  suspected  that  this  was  a  feint, 
and  went  with  all  speed  to  call  on  the  comtesse  de 
Beam.  She  received  us  with  her  usual  courtesy,  com- 
plained that  we  had  arrived  at  the  very  moment  of  the 
dressing  of  her  wound,  and  told  us  she  would  defer  it; 
but  I  would  not  agree  to  this.  My  brother-in-law  went 
into  another  room,  and  madame  de  Beam  began  to  un- 
swathe her  foot  in  my  presence  with  the  utmost 
caution  and  tenderness.  I  awaited  the  evidence  of  her 
falsehood,  when,  to  my  astonishment,  I  saw  a  horrible 
burn!  I  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt,  what  was  after- 
wards confirmed,  namely,  that  madame  de  Beam  had 
actually  perpetrated  this,  and  maimed  herself  with  her 
own  free  will.  I  mentally  cursed  her  Roman  courage, 
and  would  have  sent  my  heroic  godmother  to  the  devil 
with  all  my  heart. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  99 

Thus  then  was  my  .presentation  stopped  by  the  foot  of 
madame  de  Beam.  This  mischance  did  not  dampen  the 
zeal  of  my  friends.  On  the  one  hand,  comte  Jean,  after 
having  stirred  heaven  and  earth,  met  with  the  comtesse 
d'Aloigny.  She  consented  to  become  my  godmother  im- 
mediately after  her  own  presentation,  for  eighty  thousand 
livres  and  the  expenses  of  the  ceremony.  But  mesdames 
received  her  so  unsatisfactorily,  that  my  own  feelings  told 
me,  I  ought  not  to  be  presented  at  court  under  her  auspices. 

We  thanked  the  comtesse  d'Aloigny  therefore,  and  sent 
her,  as  a  remuneration,  twenty  thousand  livres  from  the 
king. 

Whilst  comte  Jean  failed  on  one  side,  the  due  d'Aiguil- 
lon  succeeded  on  another.  He  was  someway  related  to 
madame  de  Beam.  He  went  to  visit  her,  and  made  her 
understand  that,  as  the  Choiseuls  neither  gave  nor  prom- 
ised her  anything,  she  would  be  wrong  in  declaring  for 
them:  that,  on  the  other  hand,  if  she  declared  for  me,  I 
could  procure  for  her  the  favor  of  the  king.  Madame  de 
Beam  yielded  to  his  persuasions,  and  charged  the  due 
d'Aiguillon  to  say  to  me,  and  even  herself  wrote,  that  she 
put  herself  entirely  into  my  hands;  and  that,  as  soon  as 
she  was  well,  I  might  rely  on  her.  What,  I  believe, 
finally  decided  this  lady  was,  the  fear  that  if  she  did  not 
comply  with  what  I  required,  I  should  content  myself 
with  the  comtesse  d'Aloigny. 

Now  assured  of  my  introductress,  I  only  directed  my 
attention  to  the  final  obstacle  of  my  presentation ;  I  mean 
the  displeasure  of  mesdames.  I  do  not  speak  of  madame 
Louise,  of  whom  I  can  only  write  in  terms  of  com- 
mendation; but  I  had  opposed  to  me  mesdames  Victoire 
and  Sophie,  and  especially  madame  Adelaide,  who,  as  the 
eldest,  gave  them  their  plan  of  conduct.  This  latter,  who 
had  given  too  much  cause  to  be  spoken  of  herself  to  have 
any  right  to  talk  of  others,  never  ceased  haranguing 
about  the  scandal  of  my  life ;  and  I  had  recently,  unknown 
to  myself,  fallen  into  complete  disgrace  with  her.  This 
is  the  case. 

The  apartment  from  which  I  had  dislodged  M.  de 
Noailles  had  been  requested  of  the  king  by  madame 


ioo  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

Adelaide.  Ignorant  of  this  I  had  installed  myself  there. 
I  soon  learned  that  I  had  offended  the  princess,  and  in- 
stantly hastened  to  offer  her  the  apartments  she  wished 
to  have.  She  came  into  them;  but  as  it  was  necessary 
for  me  to  be  accommodated  somewhere,  the  king  gave 
me  the  former  apartments  of  his  daughter.  This  was 
what  madame  Adelaide  called  an  act  of  tyranny;  she  made 
the  chateau  echo  with  her  complaints:  she  said  I  had 
driven  her  out,  that  I  wished  to  separate  her  from  her 
sisters;  that  I  should  wean  her  father's  affection  entirely 
from  her.  Such  injustice  distressed  me  excessively.  I 
sent  to  request  the  king  to  come  to  me;  and  when  he 
entered  I  threw  myself  at  his  feet,  entreating  him  to  ap- 
pease his  daughter  on  any  terms,  and  to  let  me  go  away, 
since  I  brought  such  trouble  into  his  family. 

The  king,  irritated  at  madame  Adelaide's  conduct,  went 
to  her,  and  told  her,  in  a  private  interview,  that  he 
would  make  certain  matters  public  if  she  did  not  hold 
her  tongue;  and  she,  alarmed,  ceased  her  clamor,  or 
rather,  contented  herself  in  complaining  in  a  lower  key. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Of  the  presentation  —  The  king  and  the  due  de  Richelieu  at  the 
comtesse  du  Barry's  —  M.  de  la  Vauguyon  —  Conversation  —  Letter 
of  the  duke  to  the  comtesse  du  Barry  —  Reply  —  The  countess 
unites  herself  with  the  Jesuit  party  —  Madame  Louise  —  Madame 
Sophie  —  M.  Bertin  —  Madame  de  Bercheny. 

THIS  fit  of  anger  of  madame  Adelaide  had  given  addi- 
tional courage  to  the  cabal.  It  began  to  exclaim 
and  plot  against  me  with  redoubled  force;  hoping 
thus  to  intimidate  the  king,  and  effectually  bar  my 
presentation;  but  it  only  tended  to  hasten  it.  One 
evening,  when  the  king  and  the  mare'chal  de  Richelieu 
were  with  me,  he  said  to  me, 

WA  stop  must  be  put  to  these  clamors.  I  see  that 
until  you  are  presented,  there  will  be  doubts  perpetually 
arising  and  tormenting  us  on  the  subject;  and  until  it 
takes  place  I  shall  have  no  ease.  Par b leu !  let  us  take 
the  best  means  in  our  power  of  reducing  these  mal- 
contents to  silence." 

<(  Sire,"  replied  the  mare'chal,  (<make  your  will  palpable, 
and  you  will  see  all  the  court  submit." 

(<  Yes,  but  my  daughters  ?  " 

<(  Mesdames  know  better  than  any  persons  the  deference 
due  to  your  orders." 

(<I  assure  you,"  replied  the  king,  "that  it  will  be  an 
unpleasant  quarter  of  an  hour  for  me  to  pass." 

<(  Well,  sire,  then  charge  one  of  us  with  the  mission: 
the  bishop  of  Senlis,  for  instance,  or  M.  de  la  Vauguyon. 
I  feel  assured  that  either  of  them  will  acquit  himself  ad- 
mirably in  the  business,  with  the  previous  understanding 
that  your  majesty  will  support  him  with  your  authority." 

<(  I  will  do  so  most  assuredly ;  but  it  will  be  best  not 
to  use  it  but  at  the  last  extremity.  I  have  no  wish  to 
be  made  a  bugbear  to  my  family.® 

(101) 


io2  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

"As  to  the  selection  of  an  ambassador, *  I  interrupted, 
"  I  beg  it  may  not  fall  on  M.  de  Roquelaure ;  he  has  been 
working  against  me  for  some  time.* 

"Why  not  send  M.   de  Jarente  ? *  inquired  the  king. 

(<  Ah,  sire,*  replied  the  duke,  "because  we  cannot  trust 
him ;  he  is  a  gay  fellow.  Madame  Sophie  might  tell  him, 
that  he  only  took  the  part  of  madame  du  Barry,  because 
he  passes  his  life  amongst  petticoats.* 

"True  enough,*  said  the  king,  "I  prefer  the  due  de  la 
Vauguyon:  he  has  a  good  reputation  —  * 

"And  well  deserved,*  said  the  old  mare'chal,  sneering. 
"Yes,  sire,  he  is  a  pious  man;  at  least,  he  plays  his  part 
well.* 

"  Peace,  viper ;  you  spare  nobody.  * 

"  Sire,  I  am  only  taking  my  revenge.  * 

"  Why  do  you  not  like  the  governor  of  my  grandsons  ?* 

"  In  truth,  sire,  I  must  confess  to  you,  that  except 
yourself  and  the  ladies,  I  have  not  many  likings  at  Ver- 
sailles.* 

Louis  XV.  smiled,  and  I  pulled  the  bell;  when  a  valet 
appearing,  I  said, 

"  Go  and  find  M.  de  la  Vauguyon  for  his  majesty.* 

When  we  were  alone,   "  What,  already  ?  *  said  Louis  XV. 

"  Madame  is  right,  *  replied  the  duke,  "  we  must  strike 
while  the  iron  is  hot.* 

The  king  began  to  pace  up  and  down  the  room,  which 
was  his  invariable  custom  when  anything  disturbed  him: 
then  suddenly  stopping, 

"  I  should  not  be  astonished  at  a  point  blank  refusal 
from  M.  de  la  Vauguyon.* 

"  Oh,  sire,  make  yourself  easy ;  the  governor  has  no 
inclination  to  follow  the  steps  of  Montausier  or  Beauvil- 
liers.  In  truth  you  are  very  candid ;  and  I  must  tell  you, 
that  you  have  too  good  an  opinion  of  us.* 

At  this  moment  M.  de  la  Vauguyon  entered.  He 
saluted  the  king  with  humility;  and  asked  him,  in  a  mild 
tone  of  voice,  what  his  pleasure  was  with  him. 

"A  real  mark  of  your  zeal,*  was  the  king's  reply. 

"And  of  your  gallantry,*  added  the  mare'chal,  who  saw 
the  hesitation  of  the  king.  Louis  XV.  was  enchanted 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  103 

that  another  should  speak  for  him.  M.  de  Richelieu  con- 
tinued : 

(<  His  majesty,  monsieur  le  due,  wishes  that  you  should 
prepare  mesdames  to  receive  our  dear  countess  here, 
when  she  shall  appear  before  them  to  pay  the  homage  of 
her  respect  and  devotion.* 

The  king,  emboldened  by  these  words,  said,  <(Yes,  my 
dear  duke,  I  can  only  find  you  in  the  chateau  who  have 
any  influence  over  the  princesses,  my  daughters.  They 
have  much  respect,  and  no  less  friendship,  for  you.  You 
will  easily  bring  them  to  reason. * 

As  M.  de  la  Vauguyon  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  undertake 
the  charge,  the  mare'chal  added, 

(<  Yes,  sir,  to  manage  this  business  properly,  you  and 
M.  de  Senlis  are  the  only  men  in  the  kingdom.* 

The  mare'chal  had  his  reasons  for  saying  this,  for  a 
secret  jealousy  existed  between  the  governor  and  the 
grand  almoner.  M.  de  la  Vauguyon  made  haste  to  say, 
that  he  could  not  resist  his  majesty's  orders,  and  his  de- 
sire to  be  agreeable  to  me. 

<{  Ah !  you  will  then  do  something  for  me  ?  *  I  replied. 
<(  I  am  delighted  and  proud.  * 

(<  Madame, *  replied  the  duke  with  much  gravity,  <(  friends 
are  proved  on  occasion.* 

<(  The  present  one  proves  your  attachment  tome,"  said 
I  in  my  turn;  "and  his  majesty  will  not  think  it  wrong 
of  me,  if,  as  a  recompense,  I  embrace  you  in  his  pres- 
ence * :  and,  on  saying  this,  I  went  up  to  the  due  de  la 
Vauguyon,  and  gave  him  two  kisses,  which  the  poor  man 
took  as  quietly  as  possible. 

<c  That's  well,*  said  the  king.  "You  are,  la  Vauguyon, 
a  man  of  a  thousand.  Listen  attentively  to  me.  I  wish 
much  that  the  comtesse  du  Barry  should  be  presented;  I 
wish  it,  and  that,  too,  in  defiance  of  all  that  can  be  said 
and  done.  My  indignation  is  excited  beforehand  against 
all  those  who  shall  raise  any  obstacle  to  it.  Do  not  fail 
to  let  my  daughters  know,  that  if  they  do  not  comply 
with  my  wishes,  I  will  let  my  anger  fall  heavily  on  all 
persons  by  whose  counsels  they  may  be  persuaded;  for  I 
only  am  master,  and  I  will  prove  it  to  the  last.  These 


104  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

are  your  credentials,  my  dear  duke,  add  to  them  what 
you  may  think  fitting;  I  will  bear  you  out  in  any  thing — " 

"  Mercy ! "  said  the  due  de  Richelieu  to  me  in  an  un- 
dertone, "the  king  has  poured  forth  all  his  energy  in 
words;  he  will  have  none  left  to  act  upon  if  he  meets 
with  any  resistance."  The  mare*chal  knew  the  king  well. 

"I  doubt  not,  sire,"  replied  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon, 
"that  the  respectful  duty  of  mesdames  will  be  ready  to 
comply  with  your  desires." 

<(  I  trust  and  believe  it  will  prove  so, "  replied  the  king 
hastily.  <(  I  am  a  good  father,  and  would  not  that  my 
daughters  should  give  me  cause  to  be  angry  with  them. 
Let  madame  Adelaide  understand,  that  she  has  lately  had 
a  mistaken  opinion  of  me,  and  that  she  has  an  oppor- 
tunity of  repairing  her  error  in  the  present  instance. 
The  princesses  are  not  ignorant  that  I  have  often  shut 
my  eyes  upon  certain  affairs  — .  Enough ;  they  must  now 
testify  their  attachment  for  me.  Why  should  they  oppose 
the  presentation  of  the  comtesse  ?  Mon  Dieu  !  Mon  Dieu  ! 
they  were  not  so  squeamish  in  the  days  of  madame  de 
Pompadour. " 

At  these  latter  words  I  could  not  forbear  laughing. 
La  Vauguyon  and  de  Richelieu  left  us  and  here  the  con- 
versation terminated. 

The  next  morning  they  brought  me  a  note  from  the 
due  de  la  Vauguyon.  Thus  it  ran:  — 

MADAME, —  Ready  to  serve  you,  I  wish  to  have  a  few  minutes'  con- 
versation with  you.  Be  persuaded  that  I  will  not  tell  you  anything 
but  what  will  be  agreeable  and  useful  to  you.* 

I  instantly  answered:  — 

<(You  are  too  good  a  friend  for  me  to  refuse  to  see  you  willingly 
under  any  circumstances,  and  particularly  the  present.  Your  conduct 
yesterday  assures  you  my  eternal  regard.  Come  instantly;  my  grate- 
ful heart  expects  you  with  impatience.* 

My  sister-in-law,  to  whom  I  showed  this  correspond- 
ence, said  to  me,  <(  This  gentleman  does  not  come  to  see 
you  for  your  bright  eyes;  and  yet  his  visit  is  not  disin- 
terested. " 

(<  What  interest  can  he  have  to  serve  ? " 


«  GET  ME  THE  LITTLE  STARS  OF  HEAVEN,  WITH 
SILVER  STRINGS,  TO  HANG  THEM  IN  MY 
HAIR,  YOUR  MAJESTY* 


By  courtesy  of  Mr.  David  Belaseo  and  Mrs.  Leslie 
Carter.  This  scene  is  from  David  Belasdo's  play, 
Du  Barry,  played  at  Belasco's  Theatre,  New  York, 
with  Mrs.  Leslie  Carter  as  I,a  Du  Barry. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  105 

<(  None  of  his  own,  perhaps;  but  those  villainous  Jesuits.* 

<c  Don't  you  like  them,  sister  of  mine  ?  * 

«I  hate  nobody. » 

M.  de  la  Vauguyon  arrived;  and  as  soon  as  we  were 
alone,  he  said  to  me, 

<(Well,  madame,  I  am  now  on  the  point  of  going  to 
fight  your  battles.  I  have  to  deal  with  a  redoubtable 
foe.* 

<(  Do  you  fear  ?  * 

<(  Why,  I  am  not  over  confident;  my  position  is  a  deli- 
cate one.  Mesdames  will  perforce  obey  the  orders  of  the 
king,  but  they  will  not  find  much  pleasure  in  seeing  me 
the  ambassador  sent  to  them:  all  the  Choiseul  party  will 
vociferate  loudly.  Nevertheless,  to  prove  my  devotion 
to  you,  I  brave  it  all.* 

"You  may  rely  on  it  that  I  will  never  forget  the 
service  you  are  about  to  render  me." 

<(  I  have  only  one  favor  to  ask  of  you.  Authorize  me 
to  say  to  mesdames,  that  if  the  pleasures  of  life  distract 
your  attention  from  religious  duties,  your  soul  is  in  truth 
fully  devoted  to  our  holy  religion ;  and  that  far  from  sup- 
porting the  philosophers,  you  will  aid,  by  your  influence 
with  the  king,  every  measure  advantageous  to  the  society 
of  Jesuits.  * 

The  hypocritical  tone  in  which  this  was  uttered,  al- 
most compelled  me  to  burst  out  into  a  fit  of  laughter; 
but  the  serious  posture  of  my  affairs  induced  me  to  pre- 
serve my  gravity,  and  I  answered  in  a  serious  tone, 

<(  Not  only,  monsieur  le  due,  do  I  authorize  you  to  say 
so  much,  but  I  beg  you  to  declare  to  mesdames  that  I 
am  already  filled  with  love  and  respect  for  the  Jesuits, 
and  that  it  will  not  be  my  fault  if  they  do  not  return 
amongst  us.* 

(<  Ah,  you  are  a  treasure  of  wisdom,  *  replied  the  duke, 
kissing  my  hand  with  fervor;  "and  I  am  disgusted  at  the 
way  you  are  calumniated.* 

(<  I  know  no  reason  for  it,  for  I  have  never  done  harm 
to  any  person.  Assure  mesdames  that  I  am  sincerely 
grieved  that  I  am  not  agreeable  to  them,  and  would  give 
half  my  life  to  obtain,  not  their  friendship,  of  which  I 


106  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

do  not  feel  myself  worthy,  but  their  indifference.  Deign 
also  to  tell  them,  that  at  all  times  I  am  at  their  disposal, 
and  beseech  them  to  consider  me  as  their  humble  servant.  * 

<(  It  is  impossible  to  behave  more  correctly  than  you 
do;  and  I  am  confident  that  mesdames  will  soon  discard 
their  unjust  prejudices.  Thus,  it  is  well  understood  that 
our  friends  will  be  yours.* 

(<Yes,  yes,  provided  they  are  really  mine.* 

<( Certainly.     I  answer    for  them  as  I  answer  for  you.* 

And  thus,  my  friend,  did  I  find  myself  allied  to  the 
Jesuitical  party. 

The  duke  commenced  the  attack  with  madame  Louise, 
the  most  reasonable  of  the  king's  daughters.  This  an- 
gelic princess,  already  occupied  with  the  pious  resolution 
which  she  afterwards  put  into  execution  in  the  following 
year,  contented  herself  with  saying  some  words  on  the 
commotion  occasioned  by  my  presence  at  Versailles,  and 
then,  as  if  her  delicacy  had  feared  to  touch  on  such  a 
subject,  she  asked  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon,  if  the  king 
ordered  her  to  receive  the  comtesse  du  Barry. 

<(Yes,  madame,*  replied  the  duke;  (<it  is  the  express 
will  of  his  majesty.* 

<(  I  submit  to  his  wish :  the  lady  may  come  when  she 
will.* 

The  duke,  contented  with  his  success  so  far,  went 
next  to  madame  Sophie.  This  princess  was  not  unkind, 
but  subject  to  attacks  of  the  nerves,  which  from  time  to 
time  soured  her  natural  disposition:  she  had  her  caprices 
of  hatred,  her  fits  of  love.  The  day  when  the  duke 
talked  to  her  of  my  presentation  she  was  very  much  pro- 
voked against  me;  and  after  the  opening  speech  of  the 
ambassador,  flung  in  his  teeth  the  report  of  the  apart- 
ments, which  I  have  already  told  you.  The  duke  ex- 
plained to  her,  and  that  too  without  saying  anything 
unfavorable  of  madame  Adelaide,  and  concluded  by  beg- 
ging her  to  concede  the  favor  I  besought.  Madame 
eluded  this,  by  saying,  that  before  she  gave  a  definite  re- 
ply she  wished  to  confer  with  her  sisters. 

Madame  Victoire  was  not  more  easily  persuaded.  This 
princess  had  amiable  qualities,  solid  virtues  which  made 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  107 

her  loved  and  respected  by  the  whole  court;  but  she  had 
but  little  will  of  her  own,  and  allowed  herself  to  be  led 
by  the  Choiseuls;  who,  to  flatter  her,  told  her  that  she 
alone  had  inherited  the  energy  of  her  grandfather,  Louis 
XIV.  She  was  advised  to  display  it  in  this  instance,  and, 
she  would  willingly  have  done  so.  The  comtesse  de 
Bercheny,  one  of  her  ladies  in  waiting,  was  the  person 
who  urged  her  on  to  the  greatest  resistance.  This  lady 
did  not  cease  to  exclaim  against  me,  and  to  fan  the 
flame  of  displeasure  which,  but  for  her,  would  never  have 
appeared.  I  was  informed  of  the  mode  adopted  by  ma- 
dame  de  Bercheny  to  injure  me.  I  sent  for  M.  Bertin, 
who  was  devoted  to  my  service,  and  begged  him  to  go 
and  speak  to  the  lady;  he  went,  and  made  her  under- 
stand that  the  king,  enraged  against  her,  would  expel  her 
from  Versailles,  if  she  were  not  silent.  The  comtesse  de 
Bercheny  was  alarmed;  and  under  pretence  of  taking  a 
tour,  left  the  court  for  a  month.  You  will  see  anon  the 
result  of  all  these  conferences. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

The  princesses  consent  to  the  presentation  of  madame  du  Barry  — 
Ingenious  artifice  employed  by  the  king  to  offer  a  present  to  the 
due  de  la  Vauguyon  —  Madame  du  Barry's  letter  respecting  it — 
The  duke's  reply  —  The  king's  letter  —  The  court  in  despair  — 
Couplets  concerning  madame  du  Barry  —  Her  presentation  —  A 
change  in  public  opinion  —  An  evening  party  at  the  house  of 
the  countess  —  Joy  of  her  partizans  —  Conversation  with  the  chan- 
cellor respecting  the  lady  of  the  marechal  de  Mirepoix. 

THE  departure  of  the  comtesse  de  Bercheny  was  an- 
nounced to  the  princesses  in  the  manner  least  likely  to 
provoke  their  regrets.  Nevertheless,  a  rumor  never 
slept  at  Versailles,  a  whisper  was  quickly  circulated  thro'- 
out  the  castle,  that  this  sudden  and  unexpected  journey 
had  originated  in  the  king's  weariness  of  her  continual 
philippics  against  me ;  and  it  was  clearly  comprehended  by 
all,  that  a  similar  disgrace  would  be  the  portion  of  those 
who  should  offend  the  monarch  whilst  seeking  to  procure 
my  humiliation.  This  show  of  firmness  was  sufficient  to 
repress  the  daring  flights  of  those  self-constituted  heroines, 
whose  courage  lasted  only  whilst  the  king  was  silent,  and 
who  trembled  like  a  leaf  before  the  slightest  manifesta- 
tion of  his  will.  Still  the  cabal  against  me,  tho'  weakened, 
was  not  destroyed;  it  was  too  strong  for  the  present 
shock  to  dissolve  it;  and  altho'  none  was  sufficiently 
hardy  to  declare  open  war,  plots  were  constantly  going 
on  to  ensnare  me. 

Meanwhile  madame  Victoire,  left  to  herself,  could  not 
long  support  such  excessive  animosity ;  and  the  due  de  la 
Vauguyon  profiting  by  the  species  of  lassitude  into  which 
she  appeared  to  have  fallen,  led  her  without  difficulty  to 
act  in  conformity  to  the  king's  wishes. 

There  remained  now  therefore  but  madame  Adelaide 
to  overcome,  and  the  task  became  more  difficult  in  pro- 
(108) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  109 

portion  to  the  elevated  rank  she  occupied  at  court.  By 
priority  of  birth  she  held  the  first  place  there;  and 
hitherto  this  superiority  had  been  ceded  to  her  without 
dispute,  more  particularly  since  the  hand  of  death  had 
removed  both  the  queen  her  mother,  and  the  dauphiness 
her  sister-in-law.  She  therefore  could  only  view  with 
uneasiness  the  prospect  of  another  appearing  on  the  stage 
whose  influence  would  be  greater  than  hers;  and  who 
(until  the  young  dauphiness  should  attain  to  years  of  ma- 
turity) might  deprive  her  of  all  honors  but  those  due  to 
her  birth.  Madame  Adelaide  was  gifted  with  good  sense, 
affability  of  manners,  and  a  kind  and  compassionating 
heart  towards  all  who  needed  her  aid;  her  disposition 
was  good,  but  she  loved  dominion,  and  the  least  show  of 
resistance  to  her  wishes  was  painful  and  offensive  to  her. 
She  was  determined  to  uphold  the  due  de  Choiseul;  and 
my  decided  manner  towards  that  minister  plainly  evinced 
how  little  I  should  feel  inclined  to  support  her  view  of 
things.  There  were  therefore  several  reasons  for  my 
presence  at  court  being  unpleasant  to  madame  Adelaide. 
Against  her  therefore  did  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon 
direct  his  batteries.  She  received  his  attack  with  the 
most  determined  obstinacy;  all  was  in  vain,  she  was 
unconquerable,  and  the  most  skilfully  devised  plans  were 
insufficient  to  surmount  her  resistance;  it  was  there- 
fore necessary  to  have  recourse  to  the  clergy,  who  were 
at  that  time  completely  led  by  the  Jesuits;  each  mem- 
ber of  the  church,  up  to  the  archbishop  of  Paris,  was 
called  upon  to  interfere,  or  their  names  were  employed 
in  default  of  their  presence.  It  was  pointed  out  to 
madame  Adelaide  that  I  possessed  good  intentions  with 
feelings  of  religion,  which,  however  stifled  by  the  free- 
dom of  the  age,  only  required  careful  management  to 
produce  a  rich  development.  The  success  of  this  last 
mode  of  attack  astonished  the  duke  himself ;  and  madame, 
dazzled  by  the  hopes  of  my  conversion,  as  well  as  weary 
of  hostilities,  yielded  her  consent  to  my  being  pre- 
sented. After  these  private  negotiations  the  four  sisters 
met  at  the  house  of  the  elder  one ;  and  there  they  decided 
that  since  the  king  had  so  expressly  manifested  his 


no  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

pleasure  relative  to  my  presentation,  they  should  con- 
form to  the  desire  of  their  father,  by  receiving  me 
with  every  possible  mark  of  courtesy. 

The  due  de  la  Vauguyon  hastened  to  communicate 
to  me  this  happy  state  of  things;  and  my  joy  was  so 
great,  that  I  embraced  him  with  the  sincerest  warmth, 
assuring  him  that  I  should  always  look  upon  him  as  my 
best  friend,  and  seek  to  testify  my  regard  at  every  op- 
portunity that  fell  in  my  way  of  forwarding  his  interests. 

Some  days  afterwards  the  king  brought  me  a  splendid 
ring,  worth  thirty-six  thousand  livres. 

(<You  must  send  this  jewel  to  your  good  friend  the 
duke,*  said  he. 

<(I  dare  not,"  replied  I.  <(I  fear  lest  it  should  draw 
forth  his  displeasure." 

<(No,  no,"  cried  the  king,  (< 'tis  not  the  fashion  at 
court  to  construe  gifts  like  this  into  insults,  but  I  should 
wish  this  trifle  to  be  presented  in  an  indirect  manner  "  ; 
and,  after  having  considered  a  moment,  <(  I  have  it, "  ex- 
claimed he,  (<  I  have  thought  of  a  clever  expedient ;  let 
us  put  this  ring  upon  the  finger  of  that  Chinese  mandarin 
before  us,  and  give  the  figure  with  the  ring,  considering 
it  merely  an  appendage  to  it.  Assuredly  the  most  disin- 
terested man  cannot  refuse  to  accept  a  china  figure." 

I  extolled  the  king's  idea  as  being  a  most  happy  one; 
and  he  immediately  fitted  the  ring  upon  the  little  finger 
of  the  mandarin,  which  I  caused  to  be  carried  to  the  due 
de  la  Vauguyon  with  the  following  billet:  — 

<( MONSIEUR  LE  DUG, — You  have  been  my  best  friend;  'tis  to  your 
kind  offices  that  I  owe  the  confirmation  of  my  happiness ;  but  I  would 
secure  the  continuance  of  your  valuable  friendship,  and  for  that  pur- 
pose I  send  you  a  little  magical  figure,  which,  placed  in  your  cabinet, 
will  compel  your  thoughts  to  occupy  themselves  with  me  in  spite  of 
yourself.  I  am  superstitious  enough  to  rely  greatly  upon  the  talis- 
manic  virtue  of  the  charmed  porcelain;  and  further,  I  must  tell  you, 
that  I  was  not  its  purchaser  in  the  first  instance,  neither  did  I  adorn 
it  for  your  acceptance.  I  should  not  have  ventured  to  offer  more 
than  the  assurance  of  my  everlasting  esteem  and  regard  for  your  ac- 
ceptance. The  trifle  sent  comes  from  a  higher  source;  and  the 
august  hand  so  dear  to  both  of  us,  deigned  to  preside  over  the  ar- 
rangement. Should  there  be  in  it  anything  at  all  repugnant  to  your 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  in 

feelings,  I  beseech  you  bear  me  no  ill  will  for  it;  for  truly,  I  may 
say,  I  should  never  have  summoned  courage  to  do  that  which  has 
just  been  done  by  him  whom  all  unite  in  loving  and  esteeming. M 

The  duke  replied, — 

«Your  talisman  is  welcome;  yet  its  magic  power,  far  from  aug- 
menting the  warmth  of  my  feelings  towards  you,  would  have  dimin- 
ished it  on  account  of  a  certain  accessory  with  which  my  friendship 
could  have  well  dispensed:  however,  what  you  say  on  the  subject 
closes  my  lips.  I  gratefully  acknowledge  the  daily  favors  bestowed 
upon  me  from  the  august  hand  of  whom  you  speak;  and  I  receive 
with  the  deepest  respect  (mingled  with  regret)  the  gracious  present 
he  deigns  to  convey  to  me  by  you.  I  own  that  I  should  have  pre- 
ferred, to  the  splendid  jewel  which  bedecked  the  finger  of  your  deity, 
a  Chinese  counterpart,  which  might  indeed  have  enabled  all  admiring 
gazers  to  say,  ( these  two  are  truly  a  pair.*  As  for  yourself,  who 
would  fain  pass  for  nobody  in  the  munificent  gift,  I  thank  you  at 
least  for  the  flattering  place  you  assign  me  in  your  recollection.  Be 
assured  I  feel  its  full  value,  and  you  may  confidently  reckon  upon 
the  disposal  of  my  poor  credit  as  well  as  command  the  little  influ- 
ence I  may  be  said  to  possess  in  the  castle.  Adieu,  madame,  I  en- 
treat your  acceptance  of  the  expression  of  my  most  sincere  and 
respectful  devotion. » 

The  king,  having  read  M.  de  la  Vauguyon's  letter,  sent 
immediately  to  the  china  manufactory  to  purchase  the 
fellow  mandarin  so  much  coveted  by  the  duke,  and 
caused  it  to  be  conveyed  to  him  with  the  following 
words :  — 

<(Mv  DEAR  GOVERNOR  —  You  are  a  kind-hearted  creature  I  know, 
and  a  great  promoter  of  domestic  harmony ;  to  fain  unite  the  wife 
with  the  husband.  Heaven  grant  that  such  a  measure  may  indeed 
bring  about  your  proposed  felicity!  However,  by  way  of  furthering 
your  schemes,  I  send  the  Chinese  lady,  whose  beauty  I  trust  will 
not  disturb  your  repose,  for,,  spite  of  your  sanctity,  I  know  you  can 
be  as  gallant  as  the  rest  of  us,  and  possibly  this  beautiful  mandarin 
may  prove  to  be  more  lovely  in  your  eyes,  than  in  those  of  the  hus- 
band for  whom  she  is  destined;  but,  in  sober  earnestness,  I  would 
wish  you  to  be  convinced  that  my  intention  is  not  to  attempt  pay- 
ment for  the  services  rendered  me,  but  simply  to  evince  my  sense  of 
their  value.  There  is  one  beside  me  at  this  moment  who  has  given 
me  a  kiss  to  transmit  to  you — You  will  easily  guess  who  has  had 
the  audacity  to  enlist  me  into  her  service  upon  such  an  occasion. » 

This  was  one  of  the  recompenses  offered  to  the  due  de 
la  Vauguyon,  as  a  compensation  for  the  public  clamor  and 


H2  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

dislike  which  sprung  up  against  him  in  consequence  of 
his  zeal  for  my  service.  At  Versailles,  the  general  fer- 
ment was  at  its  height,  when  it  became  generally  known 
that  I  had  triumphed  over  all  obstacles,  and  that  my 
presentation  was  certainly  to  take  place.  In  the  midst  of 
all  this  the  desperate  odium  fell  upon  the  due  de  la  Vau- 
guyon,  and  a  general  attack  was  made  upon  him:  his 
virtues,  reputation,  talents,  qualities,  were  made  the  sub- 
ject of  blame  and  scandal — in  a  word,  he  was  run  down 
by  public  opinion.  But  the  leaders  of  the  cabal  were  not 
the  less  struck  by  the  news  of  my  success,  which  sounded 
in  their  ears  like  the  falling  of  a  thunder-bolt. 

The  silly  princess  de  Gueme'n£,  who,  with  her  husband, 
has  since  become  a  bankrupt  to  so  enormous  and  scan- 
dalous an  amount,  flew  without  delay  to  convey  the 
tidings  of  my  victory  to  the  duchesse  de  Grammont,  to 
whom  it  was  a  death-blow.  All  her  courage  forsook  her ; 
she  shed  bitter  tears,  and  displayed  a  weakness  so  much 
the  more  ridiculous,  as  it  seemed  to  arise  from  the  ut- 
most despair.  She  repaired  to  madame  Adelaide,  before 
whom  she  conducted  herself  in  the  most  absurd  and  ex- 
travagant manner.  The  poor  princess,  intimidated  by  the 
weakness  she  herself  evinced,  in  drawing  back  after  she 
had  in  a  manner  espoused  the  opposite  party,  durst  not 
irritate  her,  but,  on  the  contrary,  strove  to  justify  her 
own  change  of  conduct  towards  me,  by  urging  the  im- 
possibility of  refusing  obedience  to  the  express  command 
of  the  king. 

The  other  princesses  did  not  evince  greater  firmness 
when  overwhelmed  by  the  complaints  of  the  cabal,  and 
in  a  manner  bent  their  knee  before  the  wives  of  the 
French  nobility,  asking  their  pardon  for  their  father's 
error  in  selecting  a  mistress  from  any  rank  but  theirs. 
About  this  period  a  song,  which  I  admired  greatly,  was 
circulated  abroad.  My  enemies  interpreted  it  to  my  dis- 
advantage, but  I  was  far  from  being  of  the  same  opinion. 
It  was  successively  attributed  to  the  most  clever  men  in 
Paris,  and  I  have  myself  met  with  four  who  each  asserted 
himself  to  be  the  author;  in  justice  it  should  be  ascribed 
to  him  who  appeared  the  most  calculated  to  have  written 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  113 

it,  and  who  indeed  claimed  it  for  his  own  —  the  chevalier 
de  Boufflers.  I  do  not  know  whether  you  recollect  the 
lines  in  question.  I  will  transcribe  them  from  memory, 
adding  another  couplet,  which  was  only  known  amongst 
our  own  particular  circle,  but  which  proves  most  incon- 
testably  the  spirit  of  kindness  with  which  the  stanzas 
were  composed. 

Lise,  ta  beaute  secluit, 

Et  charme  tout  le  monde. 
En  vain  la  duchesse  en  rougit, 

Et  la  princesse  en  gronde, 
Chacun  salt  que  Venus  naquit 

De  1'ecume  de  1'onde. 

En  rit-elle  moins  tous  les  dieux. 

Lui  rendre  un  juste  hommage! 
Et  Paris,  le  berger  fameux, 

Lui  donner  1'avantage 
Meme  sur  la  reine  des  cieux 

Et  Minerve  la  sage? 

Dans  le  s6rail  du  grand  seigneur, 

Quelle  est  la  favorite  ? 
C'est  la  plus  belle  au  gr6  de  coeur 

Du  maitre  qui  1'habite. 
C'est  le  seul  titre  en  sa  faveur 

Et  c'est  le  vrai  m6rite. 

t^ue  Grammont  tonne  centre  toi, 

La  chose  est  naturelle. 
Elle  voudrait  donner  la  loi 

Et  n'est  qu'  une  mortelle; 
II  faut,  pour  plaire  au  plus  grand  roi, 

Sans  orgueil  etre  belle.  * 

Thy  beauty,  seductress,  leads  mortals  astray, 

Over  hearts,  Lise,  how  vast  and  resistless  thy  sway. 

*From  those  readers  who  may  understand  this  chanson  in  the 
original,  and  look  somewhat  contemptuously  on  the  following  version, 
the  translator  begs  to  shelter  himself  under  the  well-known  observa- 
tion of  Lord  Chesterfield,  <(that  everything  suffers  by  translation  but 
a  bishop!*  Those  to  whom  such  a  dilution  is  necessary  will  perhaps 
be  contented  with  the  skim-milk  as  they  cannot  get  the  cream. —  TRANS. 


ii4  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

Cease,  duchess,  to  blush!  cease,  princess,  to  rave  — 

Venus  sprang  from  the  foam  of  the  ocean  wave. 

All  the  gods  pay  their  homage  at  her  beauteous  shrine, 

And  adore  her  as  potent,  resistless,  divine! 

To  her  Paris,  the  shepherd,  awarded  the  prize, 

Sought  by  Juno  the  regal,  and  Pallas  the  wise. 

Who  rules  o'er  her  lord  in  the  Turkish  strati, 
Reigns  queen  of  his  heart,  and  e'er  basks  in  his  smile  ? 
'Tis  she,  who  resplendent,  shines  loveliest  of  all, 
And  beauty  holds  power  in  her  magic  thrall. 
•  Then  heed  not  the  clamors  that  Grammont  may  raise, 
How  natural  her  anger!   how  vain  her  dispraise! 
'Tis  not  a  mere  mortal  our  monarch  can  charm, 
Free  from  pride  is  the  beauty  that  bears  off  the  palm. 

This  song  was  to  be  found  in  almost  every  part  of 
France.  Altho  the  last  couplet  was  generally  suppressed, 
so  evident  was  its  partial  tone  towards  me,  in  the  midst 
of  it  all  I  could  not  help  being  highly  amused  with  the 
simplicity  evinced  by  the  good  people  of  France,  who,  in 
censuring  the  king's  conduct,  found  nothing  reprehensible 
but  his  having  omitted  to  select  his  mistress  from  ele- 
vated rank. 

The  citizens  resented  this  falling  off  in  royalty  with  as 
much  warmth  and  indignation  as  the  grandees  of  the 
court;  and  I  could  enjoy  a  laugh  on  the  subject  of  their 
angry  displeasure  as  soon  as  my  presentation  was*  decided 
upon. 

The  intrigues  carried  on  by  those  about  the  princesses, 
and  the  necessity  of  awaiting  the  perfect  recovery  of  ma- 
dame  de  Beam,  delayed  this  (to  me)  important  day  till 
the  end  of  the  month  of  April,  1770.  On  the  evening  of 
the  2ist  the.  king,  according  to  custom,  announced  a 
presentation  for  the  following  day;  but  he  durst  not  ex- 
plain himself  more  frankly;  he  hesitated,  appeared  em- 
barrassed, and  only  pronounced  my  name  in  a  low  and 
uncertain  voice;  it  seemed  as  tho'  he  feared  his  own 
authority  was  insufficient  to  support  him  in  such  a  meas- 
ure. This  I  did  not  learn  till  some  time  afterwards;  and 
when  I  did  hear  it,  I  took  the  liberty  of  speaking  my 
opinion  upon  it  freely  to  his  majesty. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  115 

On  the  next  day,  the  zzd,  I  was  solely  engrossed  with 
my  dress:  it  was  the  most  important  era  of  my  life,  and 
I  would  not  have  appeared  on  it  to  any  disadvantage.  A 
few  days  previously,  the  king  had  sent  me,  by  the  crown 
jeweller,  Boemer,  a  set  of  diamonds,  valued  at  150,000 
livres,  of  which  he  begged  my  acceptance.  Delighted 
with  so  munificent  a  present  I  set  about  the  duties  of  the 
toilet  with  a  zeal  and  desire  of  pleasing  which  the  im- 
portance of  the  occasion  well  excused.  I  will  spare  you 
the  description  of  my  dress;  were  I  writing  to  a  woman 
I  would  go  into  all  these  details;  but  as  I  know  they 
would  not  be  to  your  taste,  I  will  pass  all  these  uninter- 
esting particulars  over  in  silence,  and  proceed  to  more 
important  matter. 

Paris  and  Versailles  were  filled  with  various  reports. 
Thro'out  the  city,  within,  without  the  castle,  all  manner 
of  questions  were  asked,  as  tho'  the  monarchy  itself  was 
in  danger.  Couriers  were  dispatched  every  instant  with 
fresh  tidings  of  the  great  event  which  was  going  on.  A 
stranger  who  had  observed  the  general  agitation  would 
easily  have  remarked  the  contrast  between  the  rage  and 
consternation  of  my  enemies  and  the  joy  of  my  partizans, 
who  crowded  in  numbers  to  the  different  avenues  of  the 
palace,  in  order  to  feast  their  eyes  upon  the  pageantry 
of  my  triumphal  visit  to  court. 

Nothing  could  surpass  the  impatience  with  which  I 
was  expected ;  hundreds  were  counting  the  minutes,  whilst 
I,  under  the  care  of  my  hairdresser  and  robemaker,  was 
insensible  to  the  rapid  flight  of  time,  which  had  already 
carried  us  beyond  the  hour  appointed  for  my  appearance. 
The  king  himself  was  a  prey  to  an  unusual  uneasiness; 
the  day  appeared  to  him  interminable ;  and  the  eagerness 
with  which  he  awaited  me  made  my  delay  still  more  ap- 
parent. A  thousand  conjectures  were  afloat  as  to  the 
cause  of  it.  Some  asserted  that  my  presentation  had 
been  deferred  for  the  present,  and,  in  all  probability, 
would  never  take  place;  that  the  princesses  had  opposed 
it  in  the  most  decided  manner,  and  had  refused  upon  any 
pretense  whatever  to  admit  me  to  their  presence.  All 
these  suppositions  charmed  my  enemies,  and  filled  them 


I 

116  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

with  hopes  which  their  leaders,  better  informed,  did   not 
partake. 

Meanwhile  the  king's  restlessness  increased;  he  kept 
continually  approaching  the  window  to  observe  what  was 
going  on  in  the  court-yard  of  the  castle,  and  seeing  there 
no  symptoms  of  my  equipage  being  in  attendance,  began 
to  lose  both  temper  and  patience.  It  has  been  asserted, 
that  he  gave  orders  to  have  the  presentation  put  off  till 
a  future  period,  and  that  the  due  de  Richelieu  procured 
my  entree  by  force;  this  is  partly  true  and  partly  false. 
Whilst  in  ignorance  of  the  real  cause  of  my  being  so  late, 
the  king  said  to  the  first  gentleman  of  the  chamber, 

<(You  will  see  that  this  poor  countess  has  met  with 
some  accident,  or  else  that  her  joy  has  been  too  much 
for  her,  and  made  her  too  ill  to  attend  our  court  to-day; 
if  that  be  the  case,  it  is  my  pleasure  that  her  presenta- 
tion should  not  be  delayed  beyond  to-morrow. }> 

"Sire,*  replied  the  duke,  "your  majesty's  commands 
are  absolute." 

These  words,  but  half  understood,  were  eagerly  caught 
up,  and  interpreted  their  own  way  by  those  who  were 
eager  to  seize  anything  that  might  tell  to  my  prejudice. 

At  length  I  appeared ;  and  never  had  I  been  more  suc- 
cessful in  appearance.  I  was  conducted  by  my  godmother, 
who,  decked  like  an  altar,  was  all  joy  and  satisfaction  to 
see  herself  a  sharer  in  such  pomp  and  splendor.  The 
princesses  received  me  most  courteously;  the  affability, 
either  real  or  feigned,  which  shone  in  their  eyes  as  they 
regarded  me,  and  the  nattering  words  with  which  they 
welcomed  my  arrival,  was  a  mortal  blow  to  many  of  the 
spectators,  especially  to  the  ladies  of  honor.  The  prin- 
cesses would  not  suffer  me  to  bend  my  knee  before  them, 
but  at  the  first  movement  I  made  to  perform  this  act  of 
homage,  they  hastened  to  raise  me,  speaking  to  me  at 
the  same  time  in  the  most  gracious  manner. 

But  my  greatest  triumph  was  with  the  king.  I  ap- 
peared before  him  in  all  my  glory,  and  his  eyes  declared 
in  a  manner  not  to  be  misunderstood  by  all  around  him 
the  impetuous  love  which  he  felt  for  me.  He  had 
threatened  the  previous  evening  to  let  me  fall  at  his  feet 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  uj 

without  the  least  effort  on  his  part  to  prevent  it.  I  told 
him  that  I  was  sure  his  gallantry  would  not  allow  him  to 
act  in  this  manner;  and  we  had  laid  a  bet  on  the 
matter.  As  soon  as  I  approached  him,  and  he  took  my 
hand  to  prevent  me,  as  I  began  to  stoop  before  him, 
"You  have  lost,  sire,w  said  I  to  him. 

(<  How  is  it  possible  to  preserve  my  dignity  in  the 
presence  of  so  many  graces  ? w  was  his  reply. 

These  gracious  words  of  his  majesty  were  heard  by  all 
around  him.  My  enemies  were  wofully  chagrined;  but 
what  perfected  their  annihilation  was  the  palpable  lie 
which  my  appearance  gave  to  their  false  assertions. 
They  had  blazoned  forth  everywhere  that  my  manners 
were  those  of  a  housemaid;  that  I  was  absurd  and  un- 
ladylike in  my  conduct;  and  that  it  was  only  requisite  to 
have  a  glimpse  of  me  to  recognize  both  the  baseness  of 
my  extraction,  and  the  class  of  society  in  which  my  life 
had  been  hitherto  spent. 

But  I  showed  manners  so  easy  and  so  elegant  that  the 
people  soon  shook  off  their  preconceived  prejudice  against 
me.  I  heard  my  demeanor  lauded  as  greatly  as  my 
charms  and  the  splendor  of  my  attire.  Nothing  could  be 
more  agreeable  to  me.  In  a  word,  I  obtained  complete 
success,  and  thenceforward  learnt  experimentally  how 
much  the  exterior  and  a  noble  carriage  add  to  the  con- 
sideration in  which  a  person  is  held.  I  have  seen  indi- 
viduals of  high  rank  and  proud  behavior  who  carried  no 
influence  in  their  looks,  because  their  features  were  plain 
and  common  place;  whilst  persons  of  low  station,  whose 
face  was  gifted  with  natural  dignity,  had  only  to  show 
themselves  to  attract  the  respect  of  the  multitude. 

Nothing  about  me  bespoke  that  I  was  sprung  from  a 
vulgar  stock,  and  thus  scandal  of  that  kind  ceased  from 
the  day  of  my  presentation;  and  public  opinion  having 
done  me  justice  in  this  particular,  slander  was  compelled 
to  seek  for  food  elsewhere. 

That  evening  I  had  a  large  circle  at  my  house.  The 
chancellor,  the  bishop  of  Orleans,  M.  de  Saint-Florentin, 
M.  Bertin,  the  prince  de  Soubise,  the  dues  de  Richelieu,  de 
la  Trimouille,  de  Duras,  d'Aiguillon,  and  d'Ayen.  This 


n8  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

last  did  not  hesitate  to  come  to  spy  out  all  that  passed 
in  my  apartments,  that  he  might  go  and  spread  it  abroad, 
augmented  by  a  thousand  malicious  commentaries.  I 
had  also  M.  de  Sartines,  my  brother-in-law,  etc.  The  due 
de  la  Vauguyon  alone  was  absent.  I  knew  beforehand 
that  he  would  not  come,  and  that  it  was  a  sacrifice  which 
he  thought  himself  compelled  to  make  to  the  cabal.  The 
ladies  were  mesdames  de  Beam  and  d'Aloigny,  with  my 
sisters-in-law.  Amongst  the  ladies  presented  they  were 
the  only  ones  with  whom  I  had  formed  any  intimacy;  as 
for  the  rest  I  was  always  the  <(  horrible  creature,  *  of 
whom  they  would  not  hear  on  any  account. 

The  king,  on  entering,  embraced  me  before  the  whole 
party.  (<  You  are  a  charming  creature, *  said  he  to  me, 
<(and  the  brilliancy  of  your  beauty  has  to-day  reminded 
me  of  the  device  of  my  glorious  ancestor.* 

This  was  a  flattering  commencement;  the  rest  of  the 
company  chimed  in  with  their  master,  and  each  tried  to 
take  the  first  part  in  the  chorus.  The  due  d'Ayen  even 
talked  of  my  grace  of  manner.  <(  Ah,  sir, *  said  I  to  him, 
(<I  have  had  time  to  learn  it  from  Pharamond  to  the 
reigning  king.* 

This  allusion  was  bitter,  and  did  not  escape  the  duke, 
who  turned  pale  in  spite  of  his  presence  of  mind,  on  finding 
that  I  was  aware  of  the  malicious  repartee  which  he  had 
made  to  the  king  when  talking  of  me,  and  which  I  have 
already  mentioned  to  you.  The  chancellor  said  to  me, 

<(  You  have  produced  a  great  effect,  but  especially 
have  you  triumphed  over  the  cabal  by  the  nobility  of 
your  manners  and  the  dignity  of  your  mien;  and  thus 
you  have  deprived  it  of  one  of  its  greatest  engines  of 
mischief,  that  of  calumniating  your  person.* 

<(They  imagined  then,*  said  I  to  him,  "that  I  could 
neither  speak  nor  be  silent,  neither  walk  nor  sit  still.* 

(<  As  they  wished  to  find  you  ignorant  and  awkward 
they  have  set  you  down  as  such.  This  is  human  nature : 
when  we  hate  any  one,  we  say  they  are  capable  of  any 
thing;  then,  that  they  have  become  guilty  of  every 
thing;  and,  to  wind  up  all,  they  adopt  for  truth  to-day 
what  they  invented  last  night.* 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  119 

<(  Were  you  not  fearful  ? w  inquired  the  king. 

"Forgive  me,  sire,w  I  answered,  "when  I  say  that  I 
feared  lest  I  should  not  please  your  majesty;  and  I  was 
excessively  desirous  of  convincing  mesdames  of  my  re- 
spectful attachment." 

This  reply  was  pronounced  to  be  fitting  and  elegant, 
altho'  I  had  not  in  any  way  prepared  it.  The  fact  is,  that 
I  was  in  great  apprehension  lest  I  should  displease  the 
king's  daughters;  and  I  dreaded  lest  they  should  mani- 
fest too  openly  the  little  friendship  which  they  had 
towards  me.  Fortunately  all  passed  off  to  a  miracle,  and 
my  good  star  did  not  burn  dimly  in  this  decisive  circum- 
stance. 

Amongst  those  who  rejoiced  at  my  triumph  I  cannot 
forget  the  due  d'Aiguillon.  During  the  whole  of  the  day 
he  was  in  the  greatest  agitation.  His  future  destiny  was, 
in  a  measure,  attached  to  my  fortune;  he  knew  that  his 
whole  existence  depended  on  mine ;  and  he  expected  from 
me  powerful  support  to  defend  him  against  the  pack  of 
his  enemies,  who  were  yelping  open-mouthed  against  him. 
He  stood  in  need  of  all  his  strength  of  mind  and  equa^ 
nimity  to  conceal  the  disquietude  and  perplexity  by  which 
he  was  internally  agitated. 

The  comte  Jean  also  participated  in  this  great  joy.  His 
situation  at  court  was  not  less  doubtful ;  he  had  no  longer 
reason  to  blush  for  his  alliance  with  me,  and  could  now 
form,  without  excess  of  presumption,  the  most  brilliant 
hopes  of  the  splendor  of  his  house.  His  son,  the  vicomte 
Adolphe,  was  destined  to  high  fortune;  and  I  assure  you 
that  I  deeply  regretted  when  a  violent  and  premature 
death  took  him  away  from  his  family.  My  presentation 
permitted  his  father  to  realize  the  chimera  which  he  had 
pursued  with  so  much  perseverance.  He  flattered  himself 
in  taking  part  with  me.  I  did  not  forget  him  in  the  dis- 
tribution of  my  rewards;  and  the  king's  purse  was  to  him 
a  source  into  which  he  frequently  dipped  with  both  hands. 

The  next  day  I  had  a  visit  from  the  chancellor. 

(<  Now,"  said  he,  <(  you  are  at  the  height  of  your  wishes, 
and  we  must  arrange  matters,  that  the  king  shall  find 
perpetual  and  varied  amusements  with  you.  He  does  not 


120  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

like  large  parties;  a'  small  circle  is  enough  for  him;  then 
he  is  at  his  ease,  and  likes  to  see  the  same  faces  about 
him.  If  you  follow  my  advice  you  will  have  but  few 
females  about  you,  and  select  that  few  with  discernment. }> 

"  How  can  I  choose  them  at  all  when  I  see  so  very 
few  ?  *  was  my  reply.  <(  I  have  no  positive  intimacy 
with  any  court  lady;  and  amongst  the  number  I  should 
be  at  a  loss  to  select  any  one  whom  I  would  wish  to 
associate  with  in  preference  to  another.* 

"Oh,  do  not  let  that  disturb  you,"  he  replied:  "they 
leave  you  alone  now,  because  each  is  intent  on  observ- 
ing what  others  may  do;  but  as  soon  as  any  one  shall 
pay  you  a  visit,  the  others  will  run  as  fast  after  you 
as  did  the  sheep  of  Panurge.  I  am  greatly  deceived  if 
they  are  not  very  desirous  that  one  of  them  shall  devote 
herself,  and  make  the  first  dash,  that  they  may  profit 
by  her  pretended  fault.  I  know  who  will  not  be  the 
last  to  come  and  station  herself  amongst  the  furniture 
of  your  apartment.  The  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix  was  too 
long  the  complaisant  friend  of  madame  de  Pompadour 
not  to  become,  and  that  very  soon,  the  friend  of  the 
comtesse  du  Barry." 

a  Good  heaven, "  I  exclaimed,  "  how  delighted  I  should 
be  to  have  the  friendship  of  this  lady,  whose  wit  and 
amiable  manners  are  so  greatly  talked  of." 

"Yes,*  said  de  Maupeou,  laughing,  "she  is  a  type  of 
court  ladies,  a  mixture  of  dignity  and  suppleness,  majesty 
and  condescension,  which  is  worth  its  weight  in  gold. 
She  was  destined  from  all  eternity  to  be  the  companion 
of  the  king's  female  friends." 

We  both  laughed ;  and  the  chancellor  went  on  to  say  : 
"  There  are  others  whom  I  will  point  out  to  you  by  and 
by ;  as  for  this  one,  I  undertake  to  find  out  whether  she  will 
come  first  of  the  party.  She  has  sent  to  ask  an  audience 
of  me  concerning  a  suit  she  has  in  hand.  I  will  profit 
by  the  circumstances  to  come  to  an  explanation  with 
her  about  you.  She  is  not  over  fond  of  the  Choiseul 
party;  and  I  augur  this,  because  I  see  that  she  puts 
on  a  more  agreeable  air  towards  them." 


CHAPTER    XV. 

The  comte  de  la  Marche,  a  prince  of  the  blood  —  Madame  de  Beau- 
voir,  his  mistress  —  Madame  du  Barry  complains  to  the  prince  de 
Soubise  of  the  princess  de  Guem6n6e  —  The  king  consoles  the 
countess  for  this  —  The  due  de  Choiseul — The  king  speaks  to 
him  of  madame  du  Barry  —  Voltaire  writes  to  her  —  The  opin- 
ions of  Richelieu  and  the  king  concerning  Voltaire. 

AMONGST  those  personages  who  came  to  compliment  me 
on  the  evening  of  my  presentation  was  M.  the  comte 
de  la  Marche,  son  of  the  prince  du  Conti,  and  conse- 
quently prince  of  the  blood.  He  had  long  been  devoted 
to  the  will  of  Louis  XV.  As  soon  as  his  most  serene 
highness  had  wind  of  my  favor  he  hastened  to  add  to  the 
number  of  my  court;  and  I  leave  you  to  imagine  how 
greatly  I  was  flattered  at  seeing  it  augmented  by  so 
august  a  personage. 

This  conquest  was  most  valuable  in  my  eyes,  for  I 
thus  proved  to  the  world,  that  by  attracting  the  king  to 
me  I  did  not  isolate  him  from  the  whole  of  his  family. 
It  is  very  true  that  for  some  time  the  comte  de  la  Marche 
had  been  out  of  favor  with  the  public,  by  reason  of  his 
over  complaisance  towards  the  ministers  of  the  king's 
pleasure;  but  he  was  not  the  less  a  prince  of  the  blood, 
and  at  Versailles  this  rank  compensated  for  almost  every 
fault.  He  was  a  lively  man,  moreover,  his  society  was 
agreeable,  and  the  title  he  bore  reflected  his  distinction 
amongst  a  crowd  of  courtiers.  I  felt,  therefore,  that  I 
ought  to  consider  myself  as  very  fortunate  that  he 
deigned  to  visit  me,  and  accordingly  received  him  with 
all  the  civility  I  could  display;  and  the  welcome  recep- 
tion which  he  always  experienced  drew  him  frequently  to 
my  abode. 

The  friendship  with  which  he  honored  me  was  not 
agreeable  to  my  enemies ;  and  they  tried  by  every  possi- 

(121) 


122  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

ble  means  to  seduce  him  from  me.  They  got  his  near 
relations  to  talk  to  him  about  it;  his  intimate  friends  to 
reason  with  him ;  the  females  whom  he  most  admired  to 
dissuade  him  from  it.  There  was  not  one  of  these 
latter  who  did  not  essay  to  injure  me  in  his  estimation, 
by  saying  that  he  dishonored  himself  by  an  acquaintance 
with  me.  There  was  amongst  others  a  marquise  de 
Beauvoir,  the  issue  of  a  petty  nobility,  whom  he  paid 
with  sums  of  gold,  altho'  she  was  not  his  mistress  by 
title.  Gained  over  by  the  Choiseuls,  she  made  proposals 
concerning  me  to  the  prince  of  so  ridiculous  a  nature, 
that  he  said  to  her  impatiently:  <(  I'  faith,  my  dear,  as 
in  the  eyes  of  the  world  every  woman  who  lives  with  a 

man  who  is  not  her  husband  is  a  ,  so  I  think 

a  man  is  wise  to  choose  the  loveliest  he  can  find ;  and  in 
this  way  the  king  is  at  this  moment  much  better  off 
than  any  of  his  subjects. >} 

Only  imagine  what  a  rage  this  put  the  marquise  de 
Beauvoir  in:  she  stormed,  wept,  had  a  nervous  attack. 
The  comte  de  la  Marche  contemplated  her  with  a  desper- 
ate tranquillity;  but  this  scene  continuing  beyond  the 
limits  of  tolerable  patience,  he  was  so  tired  of  it  that  he 
left  her.  This  was  not  what  the  marquise  wished;  and 
she  hastened  to  write  a  submissive  letter  to  him,  in  which, 
to  justify  herself,  she  confessed  to  the  prince,  that  in 
acting  against  me  she  had  only  yielded  to  the  instigations 
of  the  cabal,  and  particularly  alluded  to  mesdames  de 
Grammont  and  de  Gueme'ne'e. 

The  comte  de  la  Marche  showed  me  this  letter,  which 
I  retained  in  spite  of  his  resistance  and  all  the  efforts  he 
made  to  obtain  possession  of  it  again.  My  intention  was 
to  show  it  to  the  king;  and  I  did  not  fail  to  give  it  to 
him  at  the  next  visit  he  paid  me:  he  read  it,  and  shrug- 
ging up  his  shoulders,  as  was  his  usual  custom,  he  said 
to  me, 

(<  They  are  devils  incarnate,  and  the  worst  of  the  kind. 
They  try  to  injure  you  in  every  way,  but  they  shall  not 
succeed.  I  receive  also  anonymous  letters  against  you, 
they  are  tossed  into  the  post-box  in  large  packets  with 
feigned  names,  in  the  hope  that  they  will  reach  me. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  123 

Such  slanders  ought  not  to  annoy  you:  in  the  days  of 
madame  de  Pompadour,  the  same  thing  was  done.  The 
same  schemes  were  tried  to  ruin  madame  de  Chateau- 
roux.  Whenever  I  have  been  suspected  of  any  tenderness 
towards  a  particular  female,  every  species  of  intrigue  has 
been  instantly  put  in  requisition.  Moreover,*  he  contin- 
ued, "madame  de  Grammont  attacks  you  with  too  much 
obstinacy  not  to  make  me  believe  but  that  she  would  em- 
ploy all  possible  means  to  attain  her  end." 

"Ah,*  I  exclaimed,  "because  she  has  participated  in 
your  friendship  you  are  ready  to  support  her. " 

"Do  not  say  so  in  a  loud  tone,"  he  replied  laughingly; 
"her  joy  would  know  no  bounds  if  she  could  believe  it 
was  in  her  power  to  inspire  you  with  jealousy." 

"  But, "  I  said,  "  that  insolent  Gueme'ne'e ;  has  she  also 
to  plume  herself  on  your  favors  as  an  excuse  for  over- 
powering me  with  her  hatred,  and  for  tearing  me  to 
pieces  in  the  way  she  does  ? " 

"No,"  was  the  king's  answer;  "she  is  wrong,  and  I 
will  desire  her  father-in-law  to  say  so." 

"  And  I  will  come  to  an  explanation  with  the  prince  de 
Soubise  on  this  point;  and  we  will  see  whether  or  not  I 
will  allow  myself  to  have  my  throat  cut  like  an  unre- 
sisting sheep." 

I  did  not  fail  to  keep  my  word.  The  prince  de  Soubise 
came  the  next  morning;  chance  on  that  day  induced  him 
to  be  extraordinarily  gallant  towards  me;  never  had  he 
praised  me  so  openly,  or  with  so  much  exaggeration.  I 
allowed  him  to  go  on ;  but  when  at  length  he  had  finished 
his  panegyric,  "Monsieur  le  mare'chal,"  said  I  to  him, 
"you  are  overflowing  with  kindness  towards  me,  and  I 
wish  that  all  the  members  of  your  family  would  treat  me 
with  the  same  indulgence." 

Like  a  real  courtier  he  pretended  not  to  understand 
me,  and  made  no  reply,  hoping,  no  doubt,  that  the 
warmth  of  conversation  would  lead  me  to  some  other 
subject;  but  this  one  occupied  me  too  fully  to  allow  me 
to  divert  my  attention  from  it;  and,  seeing  that  he  con- 
tinued silent,  I  continued  :  "  Far  from  treating  me  as  well 
as  you  do,  madame  your  daughter-in-law  behaves  towards 


124  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

me  like  a  declared  enemy;  she  assails  me  by  all  sorts  of 
provocation,  and  at  last  will  so  act,  that  I  shall  find  my- 
self compelled  to  struggle  against  her  with  open  force. w 

You  must  be  a  courtier,  you  must  have  been  in  the 
presence  of  a  king  who  is  nattered  from  morning  to 
night  in  all  his  caprices,  to  appreciate  the  frightful  state 
in  which  my  direct  attack  placed  the  prince  de  Soubise. 
Neither  his  political  instinct,  nor  the  tone  of  pleasantry 
which  he  essa3Ted  to  assume,  nor  the  more  dangerous 
resource  of  offended  dignity,  could  extricate  him  from 
the  embarrassment  in  which  he  was  thrown  by  my 
words.  He  could  do  nothing  but  stammer  out  a  few  un- 
intelligible phrases;  and  his  confusion  was  so  great  and 
so  visible,  that  the  marquis  de  Chauvelin,  his  not  over 
sincere  friend,  came  to  his  assistance.  The  king,  equally 
surprised  at  what  I  had  just  said,  hastily  turned  and 
spoke  to  Chon,  who  told  me  afterwards,  that  the  aston- 
ishment of  Louis  XV.  had  been  equal  to  that  of  the 
prince  de  Soubise,  and  that  he  had  evinced  it  by  the 
absence  of  mind  which  he  had  manifested  in  his  dis- 
course and  manners. 

M.  de  Chauvelin  then  turning  towards  me,  said,  "Well, 
madame,  on  what  evil  herb  have  you  walked  to-day  ? 
Can  it  be  possible  that  you  would  make  the  prince,  who 
is  your  friend,  responsible  for  the  hatred  which  ought  to 
be  nattering  rather  than  painful  to  you,  since  it  is  a 
homage  exacted  towards  your  brilliant  loveliness?" 

<(  In  the  first  place, J)  I  replied,  (<  I  have  no  intention  to 
cast  on  monsieur  le  mare'chal,  whom  I  love  with  all  my 
heart,  the  least  responsibility  relative  to  the  object  of 
which  I  complain.  I  only  wished  to  evince  to  him  the 
regret  I  experienced  at  not  seeing  all  the  members  of 
his  family  like  him:  this  is  all.  I  should  be  in  despair 
if  I  thought  I  had  said  anything  that  would  wound  him; 
and  if  I  have  done  so,  I  most  sincerely  ask  his  pardon." 

On  saying  these  words  I  presented  my  hand  to  the 
prince,  who  instantly  kissed  it. 

<(  You  are, "  said  he,  <(  at  the  same  time  cruel  and  yet 
most  amiable:  but  if  you  have  the  painful  advantage  of 
growing  old  at  court,  you  will  learn  that  my  children 


COMTESSE    DU   BARRY  135 

have  not  all  the  deference  and  respect  towards  me  which 
they  owe  to  their  father;  and  I  often  am  pained  to  see 
them  act  in  a  manner  entirely  opposite  to  my  desires, 
however  openly  manifested.  If  my  daughter  does  not 
love  you,  it  is  to  me,  most  probably,  that  you  must  look 
for  the  why  and  wherefore:  it  is  because  I  love  you  so 
much  that  she  is  against  you.  I  have  committed  an 
error  in  praising  you  before  her,  and  her  jealousy  was 
not  proof  against  it." 

<(  That  is  very  amiable  in  you, w  said  I ;  tt  and  now  what- 
ever may  be  my  feelings  against  the  princesse  de  Gue- 
me'ne'e, I  will  endeavor  to  dissemble  it  out  of  regard  for 
you;  and,  I  assure  you,  that  however  little  consideration 
your  daughter-in-law  may  testify  towards  me,  I  will  show 
her  a  fair  side:  endeavor  to  make  peace  between  us.  I 
only  ask  to  be  let  alone,  for  I  do  not  seek  to  become  the 
enemy  of  any  person." 

Altho'  M.  de  Soubise  said  that  he  had  no  influence  over 
the  princesse  de  Gueme'ne'e,  I  learned,  subsequently,  that 
the  day  after  this  scene  he  testified  to  the  Gueme'ne'e  some 
fears  as  to  his  future  destiny  at  court.  He  begged  her 
not  to  oppose  herself  to  me ;  to  be  silent  with  respect  to 
me,  and  to  keep  herself  somewhat  in  the  shade  if  she 
would  not  make  some  advances  towards  me.  His  daughter- 
in-law,  whose  arrogance  equalled  her  dissipation  and  dis- 
solute manners,  replied,  that  she  was  too  much  above  a 
woman  of  my  sort  to  fear  or  care  for  me ;  that  my  reign 
at  the  chateau  would  be  but  brief,  whilst  hers  would  only 
terminate  with  her  life:  that  she  would  never  consent  to 
an  act  of  weakness  that  would  be  derogatory  to  her 
character  and  rank.  In  vain  did  the  prince  try  to  soften 
her,  and  make  her  consider  that  my  influence  over  the 
king  was  immense:  he  preached  to  the  desert,  and  was 
compelled  to  abandon  his  purpose  without  getting  any 
thing  by  his  endeavors. 

I  now  return  to  my  conversation  with  him.  During 
the  time  it  lasted  the  king  did  not  cease  talking  to  Chon, 
all  the  time  listening  with  attention  to  what  the  prince 
and  I  were  saying;  and  he  did  not  approach  us  until 
the  intervention  of  M.  de  Chauvelin  had  terminated  this 


126  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

kind  of  a  quarrel.  He  returned  to  his  seat  in  front  of 
the  fire;  and  when  we  were  alone,  said  to  me, 

"You  have  been  very  spiteful  to  the  poor  mare'chal, 
and  I  suffered  for  him.* 

"You  are  an  excellent  friend;  and,  no  doubt,  it  is  the 
affection  you  bear  to  M.  de  Soubise  which  makes  you 
behave  so  harshly  to  me.  Can  I  not,  without .  displeasing 
you,  defend  myself  when  I  am  attacked  ? w 

<(I  did  not  say  so;  but  is  it  necessary  that  he  must  be 
responsible  for  the  follies  of  his  relations  ? w 

w  In  truth,  sire,  so  much  the  worse  for  the  father  who 
cannot  make  his  children  respect  him.  If  the  marechal 
was  respected  by  the  public,  believe  me  he  would  be  so 
by  his  family.8 

This  retort  was  perhaps  too  severe.  I  found  this  by 
the  silence  of  the  king;  but  as,  in  fact,  it  imported  little, 
and,  by  God's  help,  I  was  never  under  much  constraint 
with  him,  I  saw  him  blush,  and  then  he  said  to  me, 

<(  Now,  I  undertake  to  bring  madame  de  Guemene*e 
into  proper  order.  The  favor  I  ask  is,  that  you  would 
not  meddle.  I  have  power  enough  to  satisfy  you,  but, 
for  heaven's  sake,  do  not  enter  into  more  quarrels  than 
you  have  already.  It  seems  to  me  that  you  ought  to 
avoid  them  instead  of  creating  such  disturbances.* 

He  had  assumed  a  grave  tone  in  reading  me  this  lec- 
ture: but  as  we  were  in  a  place  in  which  majesty  could 
not  be  committed,  I  began  to  laugh  heartily,  and  to 
startle  him,  I  said  that  henceforward  I  would  pilot  my 
bark  myself,  and  defend  myself  by  openly  assailing  all  per- 
sons who  testified  an  aversion  to  me.  How  laughable  it 
was  to  see  the  comic  despair  in  which  this  determination 
threw  the  king.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  whole  court 
would  be  at  loggerheads;  and  he  could  not  restrain  him. 
self  from  exclaiming,  that  he  would  a  hundred  times  rathei 
struggle  against  the  king  of  Prussia  and  the  emperor  of 
Germany  united,  than  against  three  or  four  females  of 
the  chateau.  In  a  word,  I  frightened  him  so  completely, 
that  he  decided  on  the  greatest  act  of  courage  he  had 
ever  essayed  in  my  favor:  it  was,  to  desire  the  interven- 
tion of  the  due  de  Choiseul  in  all  these  quarrels. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  127 

The  credit  of  this  minister  was  immense,  and  this 
credit  was  based  on  four  powerful  auxiliaries;  namely, 
the  parliament,  the  philosophers,  the  literati,  and 
the  women.  The  high  magistracy  found  in  him 
a  public  and  private  protector.  The  parliaments  had 
themselves  a  great  many  clients,  and  their  voices,  given  to 
the  due  de  Choiseul,  gave  him  great  power  in  the  dif- 
ferent provinces.  The  philosophers,  ranged  under  the 
banner  of  Voltaire,  who  was  their  god,  and  of  d'Alem- 
bert,  their  patriarch,  knew  all  his  inclinations  for  them, 
and  knew  how  far  they  might  rely  on  his  support  in  all 
attempts  which  they  made  to  weaken  the  power  of  the 
clergy,  and  to  diminish  the  gigantic  riches  which  had 
been  amassed  by  prelates  and  monasteries.  The  writers 
were  equally  devoted  to  him:  they  progressed  with  the 
age,  and  as  on  all  sides  they  essayed  to  effect  important 
reforms,  it  was  natural  that  they  should  rally  about  him 
in  whose  hands  was  the  power  of  their  operations. 

The  ladies  admired  his  gallantry:  in  fact,  the  due  de 
Choiseul  was  a  man  who  understood  marvellously  well 
how  to  combine  serious  labors  with  pleasure.  I  was,  per- 
haps, the  only  woman  of  the  court  whom  he  would  not 
love,  and  yet  I  was  not  the  least  agreeable  nor  the  most 
ugly.  It  was  very  natural  for  them  to  exalt  his  merit 
and  take  him  under  their  especial  protection.  Thus 
was  he  supported  in  every  quarter  by  them ;  they  boasted 
of  his  measures,  and  by  dint  of  repeating  in  the  ears 
of  every  body  that  M.  de  Choiseul  was  a  minister  par 
excellence,  and  the  support  of  monarchy,  they  had '  con- 
trived to  persuade  themselves  of  the  truth  of  their  as- 
sertion. In  fact,  if  France  found  herself  freed  from 
the  Jesuits,  it  was  to  the  due  de  Choiseul  that  this  was 
owing,  and  this  paramount  benefit  assured  to  him  uni- 
versal gratitude. 

The  king  was  fully  aware  of  this  unanimity  of  public 
opinion  in  favor  of  his  minister.  He  was,  besides,  per- 
suaded, that  in  arranging  the  pacte  de  famille,  and  con- 
cluding the  alliance  with  the  imperial  house,  the  due  de 
Choiseul  had  evinced  admirable  diplomatic  talents,  and 
rendered  France  real  and  important  service.  His  attach- 


128  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

ment  to  him  was  incumbent,  and  rested  on  solid  founda- 
tions. If,  at  a  subsequent  period,  he  dismissed  him,  it  was 
because  he  was  deceived  by  a  shameful  intrigue  which 
it  will  cost  me  pain  to  develop  to  you,  because  I  took 
by  far  too  much  a  leading  part  in  it,  which  now  causes 
me  the  deepest  regret. 

Now,  by  the  act  of  my  presentation,  the  due  de  Choiseul 
would  be  compelled  to  meet  me  often,  which  would  render 
our  mutual  situation  very  disagreeable.  On  this  account 
the  king  sought  to  reconcile  us,  and  would  have  had  no 
difficulty  in  effecting  his  wishes  had  he  only  had  the  re- 
sistance of  the  minister  and  his  wife  to  encounter.  The 
lady  had  not  much  influence  over  her  husband,  and  besides 
she  had  too  much  good  sense  to  struggle  against  the 
wishes  of  the  king:  but  the  duchesse  de  Grammont  was 
there,  and  this  haughty  and  imperious  dame  had  so  great 
an  ascendancy  with  her  brother,  and  behaved  with  so 
little  caution,  that  the  most  odious  reports  were  in  circu- 
lation about  their  intimacy. 

It  could  scarcely  be  hoped  that  we  could  tame  this 
towering  spirit,  which  saw  in  me  an  odious  rival.  Louis 
XV.  did  not  flatter  himself  that  he  could  effect  this 
prodigy,  but  he  hoped  to  have  a  greater  ascendancy  over 
his  minister.  It  was  to  the  due  de  Choiseul,  therefore, 
that  he  first  addressed  himself,  desirous  of  securing  the 
husband  and  wife  before  he  attacked  the  redoubtable 
sister.  The  next  morning,  after  my  warm  assault  on  the 
prince  de  Soubise,  he  profited  by  an  audience  which  the 
duke  requested  at  an  unusual  hour  to  introduce  this 
negotiation  of  a  new  kind,  and  the  details  I  give  you 
of  this  scene  are  the  more  faithful,  as  the  king  gave 
them  to  me  still  warm  immediately  after  the  conversation 
had  terminated. 

The  state  affairs  having  been  concluded,  the  king, 
seeking  to  disguise  his  voluntary  embarrassment,  said  to 
the  duke,  smiling, 

(<  Due  de  Choiseul,  I  have  formed  for  my  private  hours 
a  most  delightful  society:  the  most  attached  of  my  sub- 
jects consider  themselves  highly  favored  when  I  invite 
them  to  these  evening  parties  so  necessary  for  my  amuse- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  129 

ment.     I   see   with   pain   that  you   have  never   yet   asked 
me  to  admit  you  there.8 

(<Sire,*  replied  the  duke,  "the  multiplicity  of  the 
labors  with  which  your  majesty  has  charged  me,  scarcely 
allows  me  time  for  my  pleasures. w 

"Oh,  you  are  not  so  fully  occupied  but  that  you  have 
still  some  time  to  spend  with  the  ladies,  and  I  think 
that  I  used  to  meet  you  frequently  at  the  marquise  de 
Pompadour's. }> 

<(  Sire,  she  was  my  friend. J> 

"Well,  and  why,  is  not  the  comtesse  du  Barry?  Whot 
has  put  it  into  your  head  that  she  was  opposed  to  you  ? 
You  do  not  know  her:  she  is  an  excellent  woman:  not 
only  has  she  no  dislike  to  you,  but  even  desires  nothing 
more  than  to  be  on  good  terms  with  you.* 

"I  must  believe  so  since  your  majesty  assures  "me  of 
it;  but,  sire,  the  vast  business  with  which  I  am  over- 
whelmed —  w 

<(Is  not  a  sufficing  plea;  I  do  not  allow  that  without  a 
special  motive,  you  should  declare  yourself  against  a  per- 
son whom  I  honor  with  my  protection.  As  you  do  not 
know  her,  and  cannot  have  any  thing  to  urge  against 
her  but  prejudices  founded  on  false  rumors  and  scandal- 
ous fabrications,  I  engage  you  to  sup  with  me  at  her 
apartments  this  evening,  and  I  natter  myself  that  when 
I  wish  it  you  will  not  coin  a  parcel  of  reasons  in  oppo- 
sition to  my  desire." 

"  I  know  the  obedience  that  is  due  to  your  majesty, " 
said  de  Choiseul,  bowing  low. 

"Well,  then,  do  first  from  duty  what  I  natter  myself 
you  will  afterwards  do  from  inclination.  Due  de  Choi- 
seul, do  not  allow  yourself  to  be  influenced  by  advice 
that  will  prove  injurious  to  you.  What  I  ask  cannot 
compromise  you;  but  I  should  wish  that  with  you  all 
should  be  quiet,  that  no  one  should  struggle  against  me, 
and  that  too  with  the  air  of  contending  against  a  per- 
son's station.  Do  not  reply,  you  know  perfectly  what  I 
would  say,  and  I  know  what  belongs  to  myself. w 

Here  the  conversation  terminated.  The  due  de  Choi- 
seul did  not  become  my  friend  any  the  more,  but  be- 

9 


I3o  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

haved  towards  me  with  all  due  consideration.  He  used 
grace  and  finesse  in  his  proceedings,  without  mingling 
with  it  anything  approaching  to  nonsense.  He  never 
allowed  himself,  whatever  has  been  said,  to  dart  out  in 
my  face  any  of  those  epigrams  which  public  malignity 
has  attributed  to  him.  Perhaps  like  many  other  persons 
in  the  world,  he  has  said  many  pleasantries  of  me  which 
have  been  reported  as  said  in  my  presence,  but  I  repeat 
that  he  never  uttered  in  my  society  a  single  word  with 
which  I  had  cause  to  be  offended. 

At  this  juncture  I  received  a  letter  of  which  I  had  the 
folly  to  be  proud,  altho'  a  little  reflection  should  have 
made  me  think  that  my  situation  alone  inspired  it:  it 
was  from  M.  de  Voltaire.  This  great  genius  was  born  a 
courtier.  Whether  he  loved  the  protection  of  the  great, 
or  whether  he  thought  it  necessary  to  him,  he  was  con- 
stantly aiming,  from  his  youth  upwards,  at  obtaining  the 
countenance  of  persons  belonging  to  a  high  rank,  which 
made  him  servile  and  adulatory  whilst  they  were  in 
power,  and  full  of  grimace  towards  them  when  the  wind 
favor  ceased  to  swell  their  sails.  It  was  in  this  way  that 
mesdames  de  Chateauroux  and  de  Pompadour  had  had 
his  homage.  He  had  sung  their  praises,  and,  of  course, 
he  could  not  forget  me.  You  will  recall  to  mind  the 
letter  which  he  wrote  to  the  due  d'Aiguillon,  on  occasion 
of  the  piece  of  poetry  entitled  <(  La  Cour  du  Roi  Petaud. w 
He  had  denied  having  composed  it,  but  this  denial  had 
not  been  addressed  directly  to  me.  Having  learnt,  no 
doubt,  that  my  credit  was  increasing,  he  thought  himself 
obliged  to  write  to  me,  that  he  might  rank  me  with  his 
party.  He  might  have  availed  himself  of  the  intermedia- 
tion of  the  due  d'Aiguillon,  but  preferred  putting  the 
due  de  Richelieu  into  his  confidence,  and  begged  him  to 
fulfil  the  delicate  function  of  literary  Mercury.  I  was 
alone  when  the  mare*chal  came  to  me  with  an  assumed 
air  of  mystery.  His  first  care  was  to  look  around  him 
without  saying  a  word ;  and  it  was  not  until  after  he  had 
shaken  the  curtains,  and  peeped  into  every  corner  of  the 
apartment,  that  he  approached  me,  who  was  somewhat 
surprised  at  his  monkey  tricks. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  13 1 

(<  I  am  the  bearer,  *  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  (<  of  a  secret 
and  important  communication,  which  I  have  been  en- 
treated to  deliver  after  five  or  six  hundred  cautions  at 
least:  it  is  a  defection  from  the  enemy's  camp,  and  not 
the  least  in  value.* 

Fully  occupied  by  my  quarrel  with  the  ladies  of  the 
court,  I  imagined  that  he  had  brought  me  a  message  of 
peace  from  some  great  lady;  and,  full  of  this  idea,  I 
asked  him  in  haste  the  name  of  her  whose  friendship  I 
had  acquired. 

"Good,*  said  he,  «  it  is  about  a  lady,  is  it?  It  is  from 
a  personage  fully  as  important,  a  giant  in  power,  whose 
words  resound  from  one  extremity  of  Europe  to  another, 
and  whom  the  Choiseuls  believe  their  own  entirely.8 

«It  is  M.  de  Voltaire,*  I  said. 

(<  Exactly  so :  your  perspicacity  has  made  you  guess  it.  * 

(<  But  what  does  he  want  with  me  ?  * 

«  To  be  at  peace  with  you ;  to  range  himself  under  your 
banner,  secretly  at  first,  but  afterwards  openly.* 

<(  Is  he  then  afraid  openly  to  evince  himself  my  friend  ?  * 
I  replied,  in  a  tone  of  some  pique. 

(<  Rather  so,  and  yet  you  must  not  feel  offended  at 
that.  The  situation  of  this  sarcastic  and  talented  old  man 
is  very  peculiar;  his  unquiet  petulance  incessantly  gives 
birth  to  fresh  perils.  He,  of  necessity,  must  make  friends 
in  every  quarter,  left  and  right,  in  France  and  foreign 
countries.  The  necessary  consequence  is,  that  he  cannot 
follow  a  straight  path.  The  Choiseuls  have  served  him 
with  perfect  zeal:  do  not  be  astonished  if  he  abandon 
them  when  they  can  no  longer  serve  him.  If  they  fall, 
he  will  bid  them  good  evening,  and  will  sport  your 
cockade  openly.* 

(<  But,  *  I  replied,  <(  this  is  a  villainous  character.  * 

(<  Ah,  I  do  not  pretend  to  introduce  to  you  an  Aristidcs 
or  an  Epaminondas,  or  any  other  soul  of  similar  stamp. 
He  is  a  man  of  letters,  full  of  wit,  a  deep  thinker,  a 
superior  genius,  and  our  reputations  are  in  his  hands. 
If  he  flatters  ns,  posterity  will  know  it;  if  he  laughs  at 
us,  it  will  know  it  also.  I  counsel  you  therefore  to  use 
him  well,  if  you  would  have  him  behave  so  towards  you," 


132  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

(<  I  will  act  conformably  to  your  advice, *  said  I  to  the 
mare'chal ;  <(  at  the  same  time  I  own  to  you  that  I  fear 
him  like  a  firebrand.* 

"  I,  like  you,  think  that  there  is  in  him  something1  of 
the  infernal  stone:  he  burns  you  on  the  slightest  touch. 
But  now,  to  this  letter;  you  will  see  what  he  says  to 
you.  He  begs  me  most  particularly  to  conceal  from  every 
body  the  step  he  has  taken  with  you.  What  he  most 
dreads  is,  lest  you  should  proclaim  from  the  housetops 
that,  he  is  in  correspondence  with  you.  I  conjure  you, 
on  his  behalf,  to  exercise  the  greatest  discretion,  and  I 
think  that  you  are  interested  in  doing  so;  for,  if  what 
he  has  done  should  be  made  public,  he  will  not  fail 
to  exercise  upon  you  the  virulence  of  his  biting  wit.* 

Our  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a  stir  which  we 
heard  in  the  chateau,  and  which  announced  to  us  the 
king.  The  marechal  hastily  desired  me  not  to  show 
Voltaire's  letter  to  the  king  until  I  had  read  it  previously 
to  myself.  "  He  does  not  like  this  extraordinary  man, }) 
he  added,  "  and  accuses  him  of  having  failed  in  respect, 
and  perhaps  you  will  find  in  this  paper  some  expression 
which  may  displease  him.8 

Scarcely  had  I  put  the  epistle  in  my  pocket,  when  the 
king  entered. 

"What  are  you  talking  about,*  said  he,  (<you  seem 
agitated  ? * 

"Of  M.  de  Voltaire,  sire,*  I  replied,  with  so  much 
presence  of  mind  as  to  please  the  due  de  Richelieu.* 

<(  What,  is  he  at  his  tricks  again  ?  Have  you  any 
cause  of  complaint  against  him  ?  * 

"Quite  the  reverse;  he  has  charged  M.  d'Argental  to 
say  to  M.  de  Richelieu,  that  he  was  sorry  that  he  could 
not  come  and  prostrate  himself  at  my  feet.* 

"Ah,*  said  the  king,  remembering  the  letter  to  the 
due  d'Aiguillon,  "  he  persists  in  his  coquetries  towards 
you:  that  is  better  than  being  lampooned  by  him.  But 
do  not  place  too  much  confidence  in  this  gentleman  of 
the  chamber:  he  weighs  every  thing  in  two  scales;  and 
I  doubt  much  whether  he  will  spare  you  when  he  evinces 
but  little  consideration  for  me.* 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  133 

Certainly  Richelieu  had  a  good  opportunity  of  under- 
taking the  defence  of  his  illustrious  friend.  He  did  no 
such  thing ;  and  I  have  always  thought  that  Voltaire 
was  the  person  whom  the  duke  detested  more  heartily 
than  any  other  person  in  the  world.  He  did,  in  fact, 
dread  him  too  much  to  esteem  him  as  a  real  friend. 

(<  M.  d'Argental,"  said  the  king,  "unites  then  at  my 
court  the  double  function  of  minister  of  Parma  and 
steward  of  Ferney.  *  Are  these  two  offices  compatible  ?  * 

"Yes,  sire,*  replied  the  duke,  laughing,  w since  he  has 
not  presented  officially  to  your  majesty  the  letters  of  his 
creation  as  comte  de  Tournay." 

The  king  began  to  laugh.  This  was  the  name  of  an 
estate  which  Voltaire  had,  and  which  he  sometimes  as- 
sumed. 

*The  name  of  Voltaire's  residence. — TRANS. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

Unpublished  letter  of  Voltaire  to  madame  du  Barry  —  Reply  of  the 
countess — The  marechale  de  Mirepoix —  Her  first  interview  with 
madame  du  Barry — Anecdote  of  the  diamonds  of  madame  de 
Mirepoix  —  The  king  pays  for  them  —  Singular  gratitude  of  the 
marechale  —  The  portfolio,  and  an  unpublished  letter  of  the 
marquise  de  Pompadour. 

BY  THE  way  in  which  the   king   continued   to  speak  to 
me  of   M.  de  Voltaire,  I  clearly  saw  how  right  the 
duke  was  in  advising  me   to  read  the  letter  myself 
before  I  showed  it  to   my  august   protector.     I  could  not 
read  it  until  the  next  day,  and  found  it  conceived  in  the 
following  terms:  — 

(<  MADAME  LA  COMTESSE: — I  feel  myself  urged  by  an  extreme  de- 
sire to  have  an  explanation  with  you,  after  the  receipt  of  a  letter 
which  M.  the  due  d'Aiguillon  wrote  to  me  last  year.  This  noble- 
man, nephew  of  a  gentleman,  as  celebrated  for  the  name  he  bears  as 
by  his  own  reputation,  and  who  has  been  my  friend  for  more  than 
sixty  years,  has  communicated  to  me  the  pain  which  had  been 
caused  you  by  a  certain  piece  of  poetry,  of  my  writing  as  was  stated, 
and  in  which  my  style  was  recognised.  Alas!  madame,  ever  since 
the  most  foolish  desire  in  the  world  has  excited  me  to  commit  a 
great  deal  of  idle  trash  to  paper,  not  a  month,  a  week,  nay,  even  a 
day  passes  in  which  I  am  not  accused  and  convicted  of  some  great 
enormity;  that  is  to  say,  the  malicious  author  of  all  sorts  of  turpi- 
tudes and  extravagancies.  Eh !  mon  Dzeu,  the  entire  life-time  of  ten 
men  would  not  be  sufficient  to  write  all  with  which  I  am  charged,  to 
my  unutterable  despair  in  this  world,  and  to  my  eternal  damnation 
in  that  which  is  to  come. 

tt  It  is  no  doubt,  much  to  die  in  final  impenitence ;  altho'  hell  may 
contain  all  the  honest  men  of  antiquity  and  a  great  portion  of  those 
of  our  times ;  and  paradise  would  not  be  much  to  hope  for  if  we  must 
find  ourselves  face  to  face  with  messieurs  Freron,  Nonatte,  Patouillet, 
Abraham  Chauneix,  and  other  saints  cut  out  of  the  same  cloth. 
But  how  much  more  severe  would  it  be  to  sustain  your  anger!  The 
hatred  of  the  Graces  brings  down  misfortune  on  men  of  letters;  and 
(i34) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  135 

when  he  embroils  himself  with  Venus  and  the  Muses  he  is  a  lost  be- 
ing; as,  for  instance,  M.  Dorat,  who  incessantly  slanders  his  mis- 
tresses, and  writes  nothing  but  puerilities. 

({ I  have  been  very  cautious,  in  my  long  career,  how  I  committed 
such  a  fault.  If  perchance  I  have  lightly  assailed  the  common  cry 
of  scribblers  or  pendants  who  were  worthless,  I  have  never  ceased 
to  burn  incense  on  the  altars  of  the  ladies ;  them  I  have  always  sung 
when  I — could  not  do  otherwise.  Independently,  madame,  of  the 
profound  respect  I  bear  all  your  sex.  I  profess  a  particular  regard 
towards  all  those  who  approach  our  sovereign,  and  whom  he 
invests  with  his  confidence:  in  this  I  prove  myself  no  less 
a  faithful  subject  than  a  gallant  Frenchman ;  and  I  venerate  the  God 
I  serve  in  his  constant  friendships  as  I  would  do  in  his  caprices. 
Thus  I  was  far  from  outraging  and  insulting  you  still  more  griev- 
iously  by  composing  a  hateful  work  which  I  detest  with  my  whole 
heart,  and  which  makes  me  shed  tears  of  blood  when  I  think  that 
people  did  not  blush  to  attribute  it  to  me. 

<(  Believe  in  my  respectful  attachment,  madame,  no  less  than  in 
my  cruel  destiny,  which  renders  me  odious  to  those  by  whom  I 
would  be  loved.  My  enemies,  a  portion  of  whom  are  amongst  yours, 
certainly  succeed  each  other  with  frightful  eagerness  to  try  my  wind. 
Now  they  have  just  published  under  my  name  some  attacks  on  the 
poor  president  Renault,  whom  I  love  with  sincere  affection.  What 
have  they  not  attributed  to  me  to  inculpate  me  with  my  friends, 
with  my  illustrious  protectors,  M.  le  mar6chal  due  de  Richelieu,  and 
their  majesties  the  king  of  Prussia  and  the  czarina  of  Russia! 

<(  I  could  excuse  them  for  making  war  upon  strangers  in  my  name, 
altho'  that  would  be  a  pirate's  method;  but  to  attack,  under  my 
banner,  my  master,  my  sovereign  lord,  this  I  can  never  pardon,  and 
I  will  raise  against  them  even  a  dying  voice;  particularly  when  they 
strike  you  with  the  same  blows;  you,  who  love  literature;  you,  who 
do  me  the  honor  to  charge  your  memory  with  my  feeble  productions. 
It  is  an  infamy  to  pretend  that  I  fire  on  my  own  troops. 

«  Under  any  circumstances,  madame,  I  am  before  you  in  a  very 
delicate  situation.  There  is  in  Versailles  a  family  which  overwhelms 
me  with  marks  of  their  friendship.  Mine  ought  to  appertain  to  it  to 
perpetuity;  yet  I  learn  that  it  is  so  unfortunate  as  to  have  no  con- 
ception of  your  merit,  and  that  envious  talebearers  place  themselves 
between  you  and  it.  I  am  told  there  is  a  kind  of  declared  war;  it 
is  added,  that  I  have  furnished  supplies  to  this  camp,  the  chiefs  of 
which  I  love  and  esteem.  More  wise,  more  submissive,  I  keep  my- 
self out  of  the  way  of  blows;  and  my  reverence  for  the  supreme 
master  is  such,  that  I  turn  away  my  very  eyes  that  they  may  not  be 
spectators  of  the  fight. 

(<Do  not  then,  madame,  think  that  any  sentiment  of  affection  has 
compelled,  or  can  compel  me  to  take  arms  against  you.  I  would 
refuse  any  proposition  which  should  rank  me  as  hostile  to  you,  if  the 
natural  generosity  of  your  enemies  could  so  far  forget  itself.  In 


i36  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

f 

reality  they  are  as  incapable  of  ordering  a  bad  action  as  I  am  of 
listening  to  those  -who  should  show  themselves  so  devoid  of  sense  as 
to  propose  such  a  thing  to  me. 

<(I  am  persuaded  that  you  have  understood  me,  and  I  am  fully 
cleared  in  your  eyes.  It  would  be  delightful  to  me  to  ascertain  this 
with  certainty.  I  charge  M.  le  marechal  due  de  Richelieu  to  explain 
to  you  my  disquietude  on  this  head,  and  the  favor  I  seek  at  your 
hands,  from  you  who  command  France,  whilst  I,  I  ought  to  die  in 
peace,  not  to  displease  any  person,  and  live  wisely  with  all.  I  con- 
clude, madame  la  comtesse,  this  long  and  stupid  epistle,  which  is,  in 
fact,  less  a  letter  than  a  real  case  for  consideration,  by  begging  you 
to  believe  me,  etc.,  VOLTAIRE, 

^Ferney,  April  28,   1769.     Gentleman  in  ordinary  to  the  king. 

« P.  S.  My  enemies  say  everywhere  that  I  am  not  a  Christian.  I 
have  just  given  them  the  lie  direct,  by  performing  my  Easter  devo- 
tions ( mes  pdques )  publicly ;  thus  proving  to  all  my  lively  desire  to 
terminate  my  long  career  in  the  religion  in  which  I  was  born;  and  I 
have  fulfilled  this  important  act  after  a  dozen  consecutive  attacks  of 
fever,  which  made  me  fear  I  should  die  before  I  could  assure  you  of 
my  respect  and  my  devotion. » 

This  apology  gave  me  real  pleasure.  I  pretended  to 
believe  the  sincerity  of  him  who  addressed  me,  altho'  he 
had  not  convinced  me  of  his  innocence;  and  I  wrote  the 
following  reply  to  M.  de  Voltaire,  which  a  silly  pride  dic- 
tates to  me  to  communicate  to  you,  in  conjunction  with 
the  letter  of  the  philosopher: 

(<  MONSIEUR: —  Even  were  you  culpable  from  too  much  friendship 
towards  those  you  cherish,  I  would  pardon  you  as  a  recompense  for 
the  letter  you  address  to  me.  This  ought  the  more  to  charm  me,  as 
it  gives  me  the  certainty  that  you  had  been  unworthily  calumniated. 
Could  you  have  said,  under  the  veil  of  secrecy,  things  disagreeable 
to  a  great  king,  for  whom,  in  common  with  all  France,  you  profess 
sincere  love  ?  It  is  impossible.  Could  you,  with  gaiety  of  heart, 
wound  a  female  who  never  did  you  harm,  and  who  admires  your 
splendid  genius  ?  In  fact,  could  those  you  call  your  friends  have 
stooped  so  low  as  not  to  have  feared  to  compromise  you,  by  making 
you  play  a  part  unworthy  of  your  elevated  reputation  ?  All  these 
suppositions  were  unreasonable :  I  could  not  for  a  moment  admit  them, 
and  your  two  letters  have  entirely  justified  you.  I  can  now  give 
myself  up  without  regret  to  my  enthusiasm  for  you  and  your  works. 
It  would  have  been  too  cruel  for  me  to  have  learnt  with  certainty 
that  he  whom  I  regarded  as  the  first  writer  of  the  age  had  become 
my  detractor  without  motive,  without  provocation.  That  it  is  not  so 
I  give  thanks  to  Providence. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  137 

*M.  the  due  d'Aiguillon  did  not  deceive  you  when  he  told  you 
that  I  fed  on  your  sublime  poetry.  I  am  in  literature  a  perfect  novice, 
and  yet  am  sensible  of  the  true  beauties  which  abound  in  your  works. 
I  am  to  be  included  amongst  the  stones  which  were  animated  by 
Amphion:  this  is  one  of  your  triumphs;  but  to  this  you  must  be  ac- 
customed. 

<(  Believe  also  that  all  your  friends  are  not  in  the  enemy's  camp. 
There  are  those  about  me  who  love  you  sincerely,  M.  de  Chauvelin, 
for  instance,  MM.  de  Richelieu  and  d'Aiguillon :  this  latter  eulogizes 
you  incessantly;  and  if  all  the  world  thought  as  he  does,  you  would 
be  here  in  your  place.  But  there  are  terrible  prejudices  which  my 
candor  will  not  allow  me  to  dissemble,  which  you  have  to  overcome. 
There  is  one  who  complains  of  you,  and  this  one  must  be  won  over 
to  your  interests.  He  wishes  you  to  testify  more  veneration  for 
what  he  venerates  himself;  that  your  attacks  should  not  be  so  vehe- 
ment nor  so  constant.  Is  it  then  impossible  for  you  to  comply  with 
his  wishes  in  this  particular  ?  Be  sure  that  you  only,  in  setting  no 
bounds  in  your  attacks  on  religion,  do  yourself  a  vast  mischief  with 
the  person  in  question. 

<(  It  will  appear  strange  that  I  should  hold  such  language  to  you ; 
I  only  do  it  to  serve  you:  do  not  take  my  statements  unkindly.  I 
have  now  a  favor  to  ask  of  you;  which  is,  to  include  me  in  the  list 
of  those  to  whom  you  send  the  first  fruits  of  the  brilliant  productions 
of  your  pen.  There  is  none  who  is  more  devoted  to  you,  and  who 
has  a  more  ardent  desire  to  convince  you  of  this. 

*I  am,  monsieur  le  gentilhomme  ordinaire,  with  real  attach- 
ment, etc.w 

I  showed  this  letter  to  M.  de  Richelieu. 

(<  Why, w  he  inquired,  <(  have  you  not  assured  him  as 
to  your  indiscretion,  which  he  fears  ? }> 

(<  Because  his  fear  seemed  to  me  unjust,  and  I  leave 
you  to  represent  me  to  him  as  I  am ;  and  now,  *  I  added, 
(<it  does  not  appear  to  me  necessary  for  the  king  to 
know  anything  of  this.* 

w  You  think  wisely,  madame ;  what  most  displeased  him 
was  to  see  madame  de  Pompadour  in  regular  corres- 
pondence with  M.  de  Voltaire. M 

I  have  related  to  you  this  episode  of  my  history,  that 
it  may  recompense  you  for  the  tiresome  details  of  my 
presentation.  I  resume  my  recital.  I  told  you  that  M. 
de  Maupeou  had  told  me  that  he  would  endeavor  to 
bring  madame  la  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix,  and  introduce 
her  to  me,  trusting  to  the  friendship  she  had  evinced 
for  madame  de  Pompadour  during  the  whole  time  of 


138  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

the  favor  and  life  of  her  who  preceded  me  in  the  af- 
fections of  Louis  XV.  I  found,  to  my  surprise,  that  he 
said  nothing  to  me  concerning  it  for  several  days,  when 
suddenly  madame  la  marechale  de  Mirepoix  was  an- 
nounced. 

At  this  name  and  this  title  I  rose  quite  in  a  fluster, 
without  clearly  knowing  what  could  be  the  object  of  this 
visit,  for  which  I  was  unprepared.  The  mare*chale,  who 
followed  closely  on  the  valet's  heels,  did  not  give  me 
time  for  much  reflection.  She  took  me  really  &  I'improviste, 
and  I  had  not  time  to  go  and  meet  her. 

<(  Madame  la  mare'chale,*  said  I,  accosting  her,  "what 
lucky  chance  brings  you  to  a  place  where  the  desire  to 
have  your  society  is  so  great?* 

<(It  is  the  feeling  of  real  sympathy,*  she  replied,  with 
a  gracious  smile ;  <(  for  I  also  have  longed  for  a  consider- 
able time  to  visit  you,  and  have  yielded  to  my  wishes  as 
soon  as  I  was  certain  that  my  advances  would  not  be  re- 
pulsed. * 

"Ah,  madame,8  said  I,  "had  you  seriously  any  such 
fear  ?  That  tells  me  much  less  of  the  mistrust  you  had  of 
yourself  than  of  the  bad  opinion  you  had  conceived  of  me. 
The  honor  of  your  visits — * 

<(The  honor  of  my  visits!  That's  admirable!  I  wish 
to  obtain  a  portion  of  your  friendship,  and  to  testify  to 
the  king  that  I  am  sincerely  attached  to  him.* 

<(You  overwhelm  me,  madame,*  cried  I,  much  de- 
lighted, <(and  I  beg  you  to  give  me  your  confidence.* 

"Well,  now,  all  is  arranged  between  us:  I  suit  you 
and  you  please  me.  It  is  long  since  I  was  desirous  of 
coming  to  you,  but  we  are  all  under  the  yoke  of  the 
must  absurd  tyranny:  soon  we  shall  have  no  permission 
to  go,  to  come,  to  speak,  to  hold  our  tongues,  without 
first  obtaining  the  consent  of  a  certain  family.  This  yoke 
has  wearied  me;  and  on  the  first  word  of  the  chancellor 
of  France  I  hastened  to  you.* 

<(  I  had  begged  him,  madame,  to  express  to  you  how 
much  I  should  be  charmed  to  have  you  when  the  king 
graced  me  with  his  presence.  He  likes  you,  he  is  ac- 
customed to  the  delights  of  your  society;  and  I  should 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  139 

have  been  deeply  chagrined  had  I  come  here  only  to  de- 
prive him  of  that  pleasure. w 

<(  He  is  a  good  master,  *  said  the  mare'chale,  <(  he  is 
worthy  of  all  our  love.  I  have  had  opportunities  of 
knowing  him  thoroughly,  for  I  was  most  intimate  with 
madame  de  Pompadour;  and  I  believe  that  my  advice 
will  not  be  useless  to  you.* 

(( I  ask  it  of  you,  madame  la  mare'chale,  for  it  will  be 
precious  to  me. w 

<(  Since  we  are  friends,  madame, })  said  she,  seating  her- 
self in  a  chair,  (<  do  not  think  ill  of  me  if  I  establish  my- 
self at  my  ease,  and  take  my  station  as  in  the  days  of 
yore.  The  king  loves  you:  so  much  the  better,  you 
will  have  a  double  empire  over  him.  He  did  not  love 
the  marquise,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  governed  by 
her;  for  with  him  —  I  ask  pardon  of  your  excessive  beauty 
—  custom  does  all.  It  is  necessary,  my  dear  countess,  to 
use  the  double  lever  you  have,  of  your  own  charms 
and  his  constant  custom  to  do  to-morrow  what  he  does 
to-day  because  he  did  it  yesterday,  and  for  this  you 
lack  neither  grace  nor  wit.* 

I  had  heard  a  great  deal  concerning  madame  de  Mire- 
poix;  but  I  own  to  you,  that  before  I  heard  her  speak  I 
had  no  idea  what  sort  of  a  person  she  would  prove.  She 
had  an  air  of  so  much  frankness  and  truth,  that  it  was 
impossible  not  to  be  charmed  by  it.  The  greater  part  of 
the  time  I  did  not  know  how  to  defend  myself  from 
her  —  at  once  so  natural  and  so  perfidious ;  and  oc- 
casionally I  allowed  myself  to  love  her  with  all  my 
heart,  so  much  did  she  seem  to  cherish  me  with  all  en- 
thusiasm. She  had  depth  of  wit,  a  piquancy  of  expres- 
sion, and  knew  how  to  disguise  those  interested  adulations 
with  turns  so  noble  and  beautiful  that  I  have  never  met, 
neither  before  nor  since,  any  woman  worthy  of  being 
compared  with  her.  She  was,  in  her  single  self,  a  whole 
society ;  and  certainly  there  was  no  possibility  of  being 
wearied  when  she  was  there.  Her  temper  was  most 
equable,  a  qualification  rarely  obtained  without  a  loss  of 
warmth  of  feeling.  She  always  pleased  because  her  busi- 
ness was  to  please  and  not  to  love;  and  it  always  sufficed 


HO  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

her  to  render  others  enthusiastic  and  ardent.  Except 
this  tendency  to  egotism,  she  was  the  charm  of  society, 
the  life  of  the  party  whom  she  enlivened  by  her  presence. 
She  knew  precisely  when  to  mourn  with  the  afflicted, 
and  joke  with  the  merry-hearted.  The  king  had  much 
pleasure  in  her  company :  he  knew  that  she  only  thought 
how  to  amuse  him;  and,  moreover,  as  he  had  seen  her 
from  morning  till  evening  with  the  marquise  de  Pompa- 
dour, her  absence  from  my  parties  was  insupportable  to 
him,,  and  almost  contrary  to  the  rules  of  etiquette  at  the 
chateau. 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  great  was  his  satisfaction,  when, 
at  the  first  supper  which  followed  our  intimacy,  he  saw 
her  enter.  He  ran  to  meet  her  like  a  child,  and  gave  a 
cry  of  joy,  which  must  have  been  very  pleasing  to  the 
mare'chale. 

"You  are  a  dear  woman,"  he  said  to  her,  with  an  air 
which  accorded  with  his  words,  (<  I  always  find  you  when 
I  want  you;  and  you  can  nowhere  be  more  in  place 
than  here.  I  ask  your  friendship  for  our  dear  countess." 

"She  has  it  already,  sire,  from  the  moment  I  saw  her; 
and  I  consider  my  intimacy  with  her  as  one  of  the  happiest 
chances  of  my  life." 

The  king  showed  the  utmost  good  humor  in  the  world 
during  the  rest  of  the  evening.  He  scolded  me,  how- 
ever, for  the  mystery  I  had  made  in  concealing  from 
him  the  agreeable  visit  of  the  mare'chale.  I  justified 
myself  easily  by  the  pleasure  which  this  surprise  caused 
him;  and,  on  my  side,  gave  my  sincere  thanks  to  the 
chancellor. 

"You  owe  me  none,"  said  he;  "the  good  marechale 
felt  herself  somewhat  ill  at  ease  not  to  be  on  close  terms 
with  her  who  possesses  the  affections  of  the  king.  It  is 
an  indispensable  necessity  that  she  should  play  a  part  in 
the  lesser  apartments;  and  as  the  principal  character  no 
longer  suits  her,  she  is  contented  to  perform  that  of  con- 
fidante, and  ran  here  on  my  first  intimation." 

"  Never  mind  the  motive  that  brought  her, "  I  said ; 
"  she  is  a  companion  for  me  much  more  desirable  than 
madame  de  Beam." 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  I4i 

<(  First  from  her  rank, w  said  the  chancellor,  smiling 
maliciously,  (<and  then  by  virtue  of  her  cousinship  with 
the  Holy  Virgin. » 

I  confess  that  I  was  ignorant  of  this  incident  in  the 
house  of  Levi;  and  I  laughed  heartily  at  the  description 
of  the  picture,  in  which  one  of  the  lords  of  this  house  is 
represented  on  his  knees  before  the  mother  of  God,  who 
says  to  him,  <(  Rise,  cousin }> ;  to  which  he  replies,  <(  /  know 
my  duty  too  well,  cousin*  I  took  care,  however,  how  I 
joked  on  this  point  with  the  mare"chale,  who  listened  to 
nothing  that  touched  on  the  nobility  of  the  ancestors  of 
her  husband  or  on  those  of  her  own  family. 

Great  had  been  the  outcry  in  the  palace  against  the 
due  de  la  Vauguyon  and  madatne  de  Beam,  but  how 
much  louder  did  it  become  on  the  defection  of  the  mar- 
quise de  Mirepoix.  The  cabal  was  destroyed;  for  a 
woman  of  rank  and  birth  like  the  marechale  was  to  me  a 
conquest  of  the  utmost  importance.  The  princesse  de 
Gueme'ne'e  and  the  duchesse  de  Grammont  were  wofully 
enraged.  This  they  manifested  by  satirical  sneers,  epi- 
grams, and  verses,  which  were  put  forth,  in  abundance. 
All  these  inflictions  disturbed  her  but  little;  the  main 
point  in  her  eyes  was  to  possess  the  favor  of  the  master ; 
and  she  had  it,  for  he  felt  that  he  was  bound  to  her  by 
her  complaisance. 

He  was  not  long  in  giving  her  an  unequivocal  proof 
of  his  regard.  The  due  de  Duras  asked  her,  in  presence 
of  the  king  and  myself,  why  she  did  not  wear  her  dia- 
monds as  usual. 

<(  They  are  my  representatives, w  was  her  reply. 

<(  What  do  you  mean  by  representatives  ? }>  said  I. 

<c  Why,  my  dear  countess,  they  are  with  a  Jew  instead 
of  my  sign-manual.  The  rogue  had  no  respect  for  the 
word  of  a  relation  of  the  Holy  Virgin  and  the  daughter 
of  the  Beauvau.  I  was  in  want  of  thirty  thousand  francs; 
and  to  procure  it  I  have  given  up  my  ornaments,  not 
wishing  to  send  to  the  Jew  the  old  plate  of  my  family, 
altho'  the  hunks  wanted  it.w 

We  all  laughed  at  her  frankness,  and  the  gaiety  with 
which  she  gave  this  statement,  but  we  went  no  further; 


142  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

to  her  great  regret,  no  doubt,  for  I  believe  that  the  scene 
had  been  prepared  between  her  and  M.  de  Duras,  either 
to  let  her  profit  in  time  of  need,  or  else  that  she  wished  to 
pluck  a  feather  from  our  wing.  When  I  was  alone  with 
the  king,  he  said, 

(<  The  poor  mare'chale  pains  me ;  I  should  like  to  oblige 
her  and  think  I  will  give  her  five  hundred  louis. * 

<(  What  will  such  a  petty  sum  avail  her  ?  You  know 
what  she  wants;  either  send  her  the  whole  or  none.  A 
king  should  do  nothing  by  halves.* 

Louis  XV.  answered  me  nothing;  he  only  made  a  face, 
and  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room.  "Ah,*  said 
I,  "this  excellent  woman  loves  your  majesty  so  much, 
that  you  ought  to  show  your  gratitude  to  her,  were  it 
only  to  recompense  her  for  her  intimacy  with  me.* 

"  Well,  you  shall  carry  her  the ,  sum  yourself,  which 
Lebel  shall  bring  you  from  me.  But  thirty  thousand 
francs,  that  makes  a  large  pile  of  crown-pieces.* 

"Then  I  must  take  it  in  gold.* 

"  No,  but  in  good  notes.  We  must  not,  even  by  a 
look,  intimate  that  she  has  sold  her  visits  to  us.  There 
are  such  creatures  in  the  world!* 

The  next  morning  Lebel  brought  me  a  very  handsome 
rose-colored  portfolio,  embroidered  with  silver  and  au- 
burn hair:  it  contained  the  thirty  thousand  francs  in 
notes.  I  hastened  to  the  mare'chale.  We  were  then  at 
Marly. 

"  What  good  wind  blows  you  hither  ?  *  said  madame 
de  Mirepoix. 

"A  royal  gallantry,*  I  replied;  "you  appeared  un- 
happy, and  our  excellent  prince  sends  you  the  money 
necessary  to  redeem  your  jewels.* 

The  eyes  of  the  lady  became  animated,  and  she  em- 
braced me  heartily.  "  It  is  to  you  that  I  owe  this  bounty 
of  the  king.* 

"  Yes,  partly,  to  make  the  present  entire ;  he  would 
only  have  given  you  half  the  sum.* 

"  I  recognize  him  well  in  that  he  does  not  like  to  empty 
his  casket.  He  would  draw  on  the  public  treasury  with- 
out hesitation  for  double  the  revenue  of  France,  and  would 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  143 

not  make  a  division  of  a  single  crown  of  his  own  private 
peculium.* 

I  give  this  speech  verbatim ;  and  this  was  all  the  grati- 
tude which  madame  de  Mirepoix  manifested  towards  Louis 
XV.  I  was  pained  at  it,  but  made  no  remark.  She  took 
up  the  portfolio,  examined  it  carefully,  and,  bursting  into 
a  fit  of  laughter,  said,  while  she  flung  herself  into  an 
arm-chair, 

*  Ah !  ah !  ah !  this  is  an  unexpected  rencontre !  Look 
at  this  portfolio,  my  dear  friend:  do  you  see  the  locks 
with  which  it  is  decorated  ?  Well,  they  once  adorned 
the  head  of  madame  de  Pompadour.  She  herself  used 
them  to  embroider  this  garland  of  silver  thread;  she  gave 
it  to  the  king  on  his  birthday.  Louis  XV.  swore  never 
to  separate  from  it,  and  here  it  is  in  my  hands. w 

Then,  opening  the  portfolio,  and  rummaging  it  over, 
she  found  in  a  secret  pocket  a  paper,  which  she  opened, 
saying,  <(  I  knew  he  had  left  it. w 

It  was  a  letter  of  madame  de  Pompadour,  which  I 
wished  to  have,  and  the  mare'chale  gave  me  it  instantly; 
the  notes  remained  with  her.  I  copy  the  note,  to  give 
you  an  idea  of  the  sensibility  of  the  king. 

(<SiRE, — I  am  ill;  dangerously  so,  perhaps.  In  the  melancholy 
feeling  which  preys  upon  me,  I  have  formed  a  desire  to  leave  you 
a  souvenir,  which  will  always  make  me  present  to  your  memory. 
I  have  embroidered  this  portfolio  with  my  own  hair ;  accept  it: 
never  part  with  it.  Enclose  in  it  your  most  important  papers, 
and  let  its  contents  prove  your  estimation  of  it.  Will  you  not 
accord  my  prayer?.  Sign  it,  I  beseech  you;  it  is  the  caprice,  the 
wish  of  a  dying  woman? 

Beneath  it  was  written, 

«  This  token  of  love  shall  never  quit  me.     Louis. » 


CHAPTER     XVII. 

Conversation  of  the  marechale  de  Mirepoix  with  the  comtesse  du 
Barry  on  court  friendship  —  Intrigues  of  madame  de  Beam  —  Pre- 
concerted meeting  with  madame  de  Flaracourt  —  Rage  of  madame 
de  Beam  —  Portrait  and  conversation  of  madame  de  Flaracourt 
with  the  comtesse  du  Barry — Insult  from  the  princesse  de  Gue- 
menee  —  Her  banishment — Explanation  of  the  king  and  the  due 
de  Choiseul  relative  to  madame  du  Barry  —  The  comtesse  d'Eg- 
mont. 

HOWEVER  giddy  I  was  I  did  not  partake  in  the  exces- 
sive gaiety  of  madame  de  Mirepoix.  I  was  pained 
to  see  how  little  reliance  could  be  placed  on  the 
sensibility  of  the  king,  as  well  as  how  far  I  could  esteem 
the  consideration  of  the  marechale  for  madame  de  Pom- 
padour, from  whom  she  had  experienced  so  many  marks 
of  friendship.  This  courtier  baseness  appeared  to  me  so 
villainous,  that  I  could  not  entirely  conceal  how  I  was 
affected  with  displeasure.  Madame  de  Mirepoix  saw  it, 
and,  looking  at  me  attentively,  said, 

*  Do  you  feel  any  desire  to  become  pathetical  in  the 
country  we  live  in  ?  I  warn  you  that  it  will  be  at  your 
own  expense.  We  must  learn  to  content  ourselves  here 
with  appearances,  and  examine  nothing  thoroughly.8 

a  There  is  then  no  reality  ? w  said  I  to  her. 

"Yes,"  she  answered  me,  (<  but  only  two  things,  power 
and  money:  the  rest  is  leather  and  prunella*  (contes 
bleus):  no  person  has  time  to  love  sincerely;  it  is  hatred 
only  that  takes  deep  root  and  never  dies.  To  hope  to 
give  birth  to  a  real  passion,  an  Orestean  and  Pyladean 
friendship,  is  a  dream  from  which  you  must  be  awak- 
ened. w 

<(  Then  you  do  not  love  me  ? w 

a  You  ask  me  a  very  awkward  question,  my  darling,  I 
can  tell  you.  I  do  love  you,  and  very  much,  too:  I  have 
044) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  145 

proved  it  by  ranging  myself  on  your  side,  and  by  de- 
claring, with  the  utmost  frankness,  that  I  would  rather 
see  you  in  the  situation  in  which  you  are,  than  any  other 
woman  of  the  court.  But  there  is  a  long  space  between 
this  and  heroical  friendship:  I  should  deceive  you  if  I 
were  to  affirm  the  contrary,  and  there  would  be  no  com- 
mon sense  in  giving  faith  to  my  words.  Every  one  has 
too  much  business,  too  much  intrigue,  too  many  quarrels 
on  hand,  to  have  any  leisure  to  think  of  others:  every 
one  lives  for  himself  alone.  Mesdames  de  Gueme'ne'e  and 
de  Grammont  appear  very  intimate:  that  is  easily  ex- 
plained, they  unite  against  a  common  enemy.  But  were 
your  station  left  vacant,  no  sooner  would  the  king  have 
thrown  the  apple  to  one  of  them,  but  the  other  would 
detest  her  instantly.* 

Contrary  to  custom  I  made  no  reply:  I  was  absorbed 
in  painful  reflections  to  which  this  conversation  had  given 
rise.  The  mare'chale  perceived  it,  and  said, 

<(  We  should  fall  into  philosophy  if  we  probed  this  sub- 
ject too  deeply.  Let  us  think  no  more  of  this:  besides, 
I  have  a  new  defection  to  tell  you  of.  .  Madame  de 
Flaracourt  told  me  yesterday  that  she  much  regretted 
having  misunderstood  you,  and  that  you  were  worth 
more  than  all  those  who  persecute  you.  She  appeared 
to  me  disposed  to  ally  herself  to  you  for  the  least 
encouragement  which  you  might  be  induced  to  hold  out 
to  her." 

wYou  know  very  well,"  I  replied,  <(that  I  am  willing 
to  adopt  your  advice.  The  house  of  Flaracourt  is  not 
to  be  despised,  and  I  ask  no  better  than  to  be  on 
amicable  terms  with  the  lady." 

<(  Well,  then,  come  this  morning  and  walk  in  the  grove 
nearest  the  pavilion,  I  shall  be  there  with  madame  de 
Flaracourt:  we  will  meet  by  chance,  compliments  will 
follow,  and  the  alliance  will  be  formed." 

The  mare'chale  and  I  had  scarcely  separated  when 
madame  de  Beam  was  announced.  This  lady  besieged 
me  night  and  day.  Gifted  with  a  subtle  and  penetrating 
spirit  —  that  talent  which  procures  advancement  at  court, 
she  saw,  with  pain,  that  I  sought  to  attract  other  females 

10 


146  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

about  me :  she  would  fain  have  remained  my  only  friend, 
that  she  might,  unopposed,  influence  me  in  all  I  did. 
She  saw,  therefore,  the  appearance  of  madame  de  Mire- 
poix  in  my  drawing-room  with  uneasiness:  her  bad 
humor  was  sufficiently  apparent  to  attract  the  notice  of 
the  mare"chale,  who  laughed  at  it:  her  social  position  as 
a  titled  woman,  and  the  king's  friendship,  giving  her 
confidence  that  her  credit  would  always  exceed  that  of 
my  godmother. 

Madame  de  Beam  was  compelled  to  submit  to  the  as- 
cendancy of  the  mare'chale,  but  yet  did  not  the  less  relax 
in  her  efforts  to  keep  from  me  all  other  female  society, 
she  hoped  that  at  last  the  king  would  distinguish  her, 
and  call  her  into  his  intimacy  as  my  friend;  she  was  not 
more  fond  of  the  comtesse  d'Aloigny,  altho'  the  nullity  of 
this  lady  need  not  have  alarmed  her  much.  For  me,  I 
began  to  resent  the  irksomeness  of  having  incessantly  at 
my  side  a  person  who  manifested  too  openly  her  desire 
to  compel  me  to  submit  to  her  wishes,  and  I  waited,  to 
secure  my  freedom,  only  until  the  circle  of  females  I 
could  admit  to  my  society  should  be  extended. 

Such  were  our  reciprocal  feelings  during  our  stay  at 
Marly.  The  madame  de  Beam  watched  me  with  more 
care  than  at  Versailles,  fearing,  no  doubt,  that  the  free- 
dom of  the  country  might  facilitate  connections  prej- 
udicial to  her  interests.  Little  did  she  anticipate  on 
this  day  the  stroke  which  was  in  preparation  for  her.  I 
asked  her  spitefully  to  take  a  turn  with  me  into  the 
park,  and  I  took  care  not  to  announce  the  meeting  which 
we  had  arranged. 

Behold  us  then  walking  this  way  and  that,  quite  by 
chance,  without  however  going  any  distance  from  the 
pavilion.  Madame  de  Beam,  not  liking  the  vicinity  of  the 
chateau,  was  desirous  to  go  into  the  wood.  I  declined 
this  under  vain  excuses,  when  suddenly  madame  de  Mire- 
poix  and  madame  de  Flaracourt  appeared  at  the  end  of 
a  very  short  walk. 

<(  Let  us  turn  this  way, }>  said  the  countess  to  me,  <(  here 
comes  one  of  our  enemies,  whom  it  would  be  as  well 
to  avoid.* 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  147 

<(  Why  turn  away  ?  w  I  replied ;  (<  she  is  alone,  we  are 
two,  and  then  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix  is  not  opposed 
to  us." 

Saying  this,  I  advanced  towards  them.  Madame  de 
Flaracourt  appeared  very  gracious:  I  replied  to  her  ad- 
vances with  due  politeness,  and  instead  of  separating,  we 
continued  to  walk  about  together.  Madame  de  Beam 
saw  clearly  that  chance  was  not  the  sole  cause  of  this 
meeting:  she  dissembled  as  well  as  she  could.  •  I  after- 
wards learnt  that  she  owed  me  a  spite,  particularly  for 
the  mystery  which  I  had  made  of  this  occurrence.  The 
marked  silence,  and  the  sullen  air  she  assumed  during 
this  interview,  and  which  her  sense  and  knowledge  of 
the  world  should  have  prevented  her  from  manifesting, 
proved  to  me,  on  this  occasion,  as  on  many  others,  that 
temper  cannot  always  be  conquered,  and  that  at  times 
it  will  burst  forth  in  spite  of  the  experience  and  cau- 
tion of  the  courtier. 

I  did  not  give  myself  much  trouble  on  this  subject:  I 
had  well  recompensed  the  good  offices  of  the  countess: 
I  had  ample  proof  that  in  serving  me  she  had  acted  on 
the  impulse  of  self-interest:  we  were  quits,  I  thought, 
and  I  saw  no  reason  why  I  should  remain  isolated  just 
to  serve  her  pleasure. 

When  we  returned  to  my  apartments  I  saw  plainly,  by 
her  mutterings,  her  sighs,  and  the  shrugging  of  her 
shoulders,  that  she  was  deeply  irritated  at  what  had  just 
taken  place.  She  was  desirous  of  provoking  an  explana- 
tion, but  as  that  could  only  tend  to  her  disadvantage,  she 
contented  herself  with  leaving  me  earlier  than  her  usual 
want,  without  saying  anything  disagreeable.  Her  custom 
was  not  to  leave  me  alone,  and  her  abrupt  departure 
confirmed  me  in  the  idea  I  had  imbibed,  that  this  sort  of 
comedy  had  much  thwarted  her. 

In  the  course  of  the  same  day  I  received  a  visit  from 
the  comtesse  de  Flaracourt.  This  lady,  whose  sparkling 
eyes  shone  with  an  air  of  mischief,  presented  herself  to 
me  with  an  appearance  of  openness  and  confidence  which 
completely  cloaked  the  malignity  and  treachery  of  her 
character.  She  threw  her  arms  round  my  neck  with  as 


148  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

much  grace  as  tenderness,  and  taking  my  hand,  as  if  to 
arrest  my  attention,  said: 

"  I  ought,  madame,  to  explain  to  you  the  delay  that  I 
have  made  before  I  introduce  myself  to  you,  as  well  as 
the  promptitude  of  this  my  first  visit.  I  was  prejudiced 
against  you,  and  had  formed  a  false  estimate  of  you.  My 
liaison  with  mesdames  d'Egmont,  de  Brionne,  and  de 
Grammont  naturally  placed  me  in  the  rank  opposed  to 
you:  so  much  for  what  has  passed.  But  I  have  seen 
you:  I  have  studied  you  at  a  distance,  as  well  as  close, 
and  I  have  recognised,  without  difficulty,  the  injustice 
of  your  enemies.  I  have  been  enraged  with  myself  for 
having  been  deceived  regarding  you:  I  wish  to  repair 
my  wrongs.  Enlightened  by  the  opinion  of  the  marechale 
de  Mirepoix,  I  have  not  hesitated  to  approach  you  under 
her  auspices,  and  our  first  meeting  has  so  happily  fur- 
nished me  with  an  opportunity  of  appreciating  you,  that 
I  would  not  delay  any  longer  the  pleasure  of  making 
you  a  personal  avowal  of  my  past  sentiments,  and  of  those 
with  which  you  now  inspire  me.* 

The  tone  in  which  madame  de  Flaracourt  uttered  these 
words  was  so  gracious  and  so  persuasive,  that  I  could  not 
resist  the  pleasure  of  embracing  her.  She  returned  my 
kiss  with  the  same  eagerness,  and  would  not  listen  to 
my  thanks. 

"All  is  explained  between  us,*  she  continued,  "let  us 
forget  the  past,  and  let  us  do  as  if  meeting  for  the  first 
time  to-day;  we  henceforward  date  this  as  the  first  of 
our  acquaintance.* 

"  The  affability  with  which  you  have  presented  yourself 
to  me,*  I  replied,  ((does  not  permit  me  to  believe  that  I 
have  only  known  you  from  this  morning;  I  am  in  an 
illusion  which  will  only  allow  me  to  look  on  our  recent 
alliance  as  an  ancient  friendship.* 

After  having  exchanged  some  conversation  of  the  same 
tenor,  we  talked  of  my  situation  as  regarded  the  other 
females  of  the  court. 

"They  hate  you  for  two  reasons,*  said  the  countess: 
"in  the  first  place,  because  you  have  made  a  conquest 
which  all  the  world  envies  you;  secondly  because  you 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  149 

are  not  one  of  us.  There  is  not  one  family  who  can 
lean  on  you  in  virtue  of  the  rights  of  blood,  or  alliances 
which  stand  instead  of  it.  You  have  superseded  a  woman 
who  more  than  any  other  could  have  a  claim  to  your 
good  fortune:  she  is  sister  to  the  prime  minister,  who 
has  in  her  train,  like  Lucifer,  more  than  a  third  part  of 
heaven,  for  all  the  courtiers  hang  on  her  brother. 

<(  On  the  other  hand,  we  are  not  accustomed  to  re- 
main *so  long  in  opposition  to  the  will  of  the  king.  Such 
a  resistance  is  not  natural  to  us ;  it  weighs  upon  us,  it 
harms  us,  the  favor  of  our  master  being  our  chief  good. 
We  are  only  something  thro'  him,  and  when  combatting 
against  him  we  have  neither  the  courage  nor  the  per- 
severance. Thus  you  may  be  very  certain  that  the  majority 
of  women  who  oppose  you  do  it  against  the  grain:  and 
if  you  add  to  this  that  they  are  incessantly  exposed  to 
the  murmurs  and  complaints  of  their  husbands,  sons, 
brothers,  and  lovers,  you  will  easily  be  convinced  that 
they  only  aspire  to  finding  a  means  of  reconciling  the 
regard  they  owe  to  the  Choiseuls  and  the  terror  which  they 
inspire,  with  the  desire  they  have  to  seek  your  protec- 
tion and  the  friendship  of  the  king.  The  cabal  only 
flies  on  one  wing,  and  I  cannot  divine  its  situation  at 
the  commencement  of  the  next  winter.  Do  not  disquiet 
yourself  any  more  with  what  it  can  do:  keep  yourself 
quiet;  continue  to  please  the  faster,*  and  you  will 
triumph  over  the  multitude  as  easily  as  you  have  con- 
quered the  resistance  of  mesdames.* 

Such  was  the  language  of  the  comtesse  de  Flaracourt: 
it  agreed,  as  you  will  perceive,  with  that  of  madame  de 
Mirepoix,  and  I  ought  the  more  to  believe  it,  as  it  was 
the  fruit  of  their  experience  and  profound  knowledge 
of  court  manners.  Their  example  proved  to  me,  as 
well  as  their  words,  that  all  those  who  approached  the 
king  could  not  bear  for  a  long  time  the  position  in 
which  he  placed  those  whom  he  did  not  look  upon  with 
pleasure.  However,  Louis  XV.  evinced  more  plainly  from 
day  to  day  the  ascendancy  I  had  over  his  mind.  He 
assisted  publicly  at  my  toilet,  he  walked  out  with  me, 
left  me  as  little  as  possible,  and  sought  by  every  atten- 


iSo  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

tion  to  console  me  for  the  impertinences  with  which 
my  enemies  bespattered  me.  The  following  anecdote 
will  prove  to  you  how  little  consideration  he  had  for 
those  persons  who  dared  to  insult  me  openly. 

One  day  at  Marly,  I  entered  the  drawing-room;  there 
was  a  vacant  seat  near  the  princesse  de  Guemene'e,  I 
went  to  it,  and  scarcely  was  seated  when  my  neighbor 
got  up,  saying,  (<  What  horror ! w  and  betook  herself  to 
the  further  end  of  the  room.  I  was  much  confused:  the 
offence  was  too  public  for  me  to  restrain  my  resentment, 
and  even  when  I  wished  to  do  so  the  thing  was  scarcely 
possible.  The  comte  Jean,  who  had  witnessed  it,  and 
my  sisters-in-law,  who  learnt  it  from  him,  were  enraged. 
I  was  compelled  to  complain  to  the  king,  who  instantly 
sent  the  princesse  de  Guemene'e  an  order  to  quit  Marly 
forthwith,  and  betake  herself  to  the  princesse  de  Marsan, 
gouvernante  of  the  children  of  the  royal  family  of  France, 
of  whose  post  she  had  the  reversion. 

Never  did  a  just  chastisement  produce  a  greater  effect. 
The  outcry  against  me  was  louder  than  ever,  it  seemed 
as  tho'  the  whole  nobility  of  France  was  immolated  at 
<(one  fell  swoop.*  To  have  heard  the  universal  clamor, 
it  would  have  been  thought  that  the  princess  had  been 
sent  to  the  most  obscure  prison  in  the  kingdom.  This 
proof  of  the  king's  regard  for  me  did  much  mischief,  no 
doubt,  as  it  furnished  my  enemies  with  a  pretext  to 
accuse  me  of  a  vindictive  spirit.  Could  I  do  otherwise  ? 
Ought  I  to  have  allowed  myself  to  be  overwhelmed  with 
impunity,  and  was  it  consistent  with  the  dignity  of  my 
august  protector,  that  I  should  be  insulted  thus  openly 
by  his  subjects,  his  courtiers,  his  guests,  even  in  the 
private  apartments  of  his  palace  ? 

However,  this  wrath  of  the  nobility  did  not  prevent  the 
Choiseul  family  from  experiencing  a  feeling  of  fright. 
They  had  just  received  a  signal  favor.  The  government 
of  Strasbourg,  considered  as  the  key  of  France  and  Alsace, 
had  been  given  in  reversion  to  the  comte  de  Stainville, 
brother  of  the  due  de  Choiseul.  Certainly  this  choice 
was  a  very  great  proof  of  the  indulgence  of  the  king, 
and  the  moment  was  badly  chosen  to  pay  with  ingrati- 


LOUIS    THE  FIFTEENTH 
From  the  portrait  by  Ferrand,  1760 


Cejiyrtyht.  tfto.  »y  U.  waiter  J>unnf. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  151 

tude  a  benefit  so  important.  This  did  not  hinder  the 
duchesse  de  Grammont,  and  all  the  women  of  her  house, 
or.  who  were  her  allies,  from  continuing  to  intrigue 
against  me.  It  was  natural  to  believe  that  the  king 
would  not  permit  such  doing  for  a  long  time,  and  that 
should  he  become  enraged  at  them,  that  I  should  attempt 
to  soothe  his  anger. 

Matters  were  in  this  state,  when  one  morning,  after  his 
accustomed  routine,  the  due  de  Choiseul  requested  a  pri- 
vate audience  of  the  king.  (<  I  grant  it  this  moment, }> 
said  the  prince,  <(  what  have  you  to  say  to  me  ? w 

<(  I  wish  to  explain  to  your  majesty  how  excessively 
painful  is  the  situation  in  which  I  am  placed  with  regard 
to  some  of  the  members  of  my  family.  All  the  females, 
and  my  sister  at  their  head,  attack  me  about  a  quarrel 
which  is  strange  to  me,  and  with  which  I  have  declared 
I  would  not  meddle.8 

(<  You  do  well,  monsieur  le  due, w  said  the  king,  with 
cool  gravity,  <(  I  am  much  vexed  at  all  that  is  going  on, 
and  have  resolved  not  to  suffer  it  any  longer." 

The  decision  of  this  discourse  made  a  deep  impression  on 
M.  de  Choiseul:  he  sought  to  conceal  it  whilst  he  replied: 

*It  is  difficult,  sire,  to  make  women   listen  to  reason. }> 

WA11  are  not  unreasonable,®  rejoined  the  king:  <(your 
wife,  for  instance,  is  a  model  of  reason  and  wisdom:  she 
has  perfect  control  of  herself.  She  is  the  wise  woman  of 
scripture. w 

This  flattery  and  justly  merited  eulogium,  which  the 
king  made  of  the  duchess  whenever  he  found  an  oppor- 
tunity, was  the  more  painful  to  M.  de  Choiseul,  as  his 
conduct  was  not  irreproachable  towards  a  woman  whose 
virtues  he  alone  did  not  justly  appreciate.  It  was  a  direct 
satire  against  his  sister's  conduct,  whose  ascendancy  over 
him,  her  brother,  the  king  well  knew.  He  replied  that 
the  good  behavior  of  his  wife  was  the  safeguard  of  his 
family,  and  he  greatly  regretted  that  the  duchesse  de 
Grammont  had  not  a  right  to  the  same  eulogium. 

(<  I  beg  you,  *  said  the  prince,  <(  to  engage  her  to  change 
her  language,  and  to  conduct  herself  with  less  boldness, 
if  she  would  not  have  me  force  her  to  repent." 


152  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

"That,  sire,  is  a  mission  painful  to  fulfil,  and  words 
very  hard  to  convey  to  her.* 

"So  much  the  worse  for  her,*  replied  the  king,  elevat- 
ing his  voice,  <(if  she  bear  any  friendship  for  you,  let 
her  prove  it  in  this  particular:  your  interests  should  keep 
her  mouth  shut.* 

The  duke  had  no  difficulty  to  comprehend  the  indirect 
menace  implied:  he  instantly  renewed  his  regrets  for  the 
disagreeable  disturbances  that  had  occurred. 

(<  Add  insulting,  *  said  Louis  XV.  u  I  am  content  with 
you  and  your  services,  duke.  I  have  just  proved  this  to 
you,  by  giving  your  brother  more  than  he  could  expect 
from  me;  but  have  not  I  the  right  to  have  my  intimacies 
respected  ?  It  appears  to  me  that  if  you  spoke  more 
decidedly  in  your  family  you  would  command  more  atten- 
tion. * 

"This  makes  me  fear,  sire,  that  your  majesty  does  not 
believe  me  sincere  in  my  expression  of  the  regret  which 
I  just  took  the  liberty  to  utter  to  your  majesty.* 

<(  Mon  Dieu,  monsieur  le  due,  you  certainly  do  not  like 
madame  du  Barry.* 

"  I  neither  like  nor  hate  her,  sire ;  but  I  see  with  trouble 
that  she  receives  at  her  house  all  my  enemies.* 

<(  Whose  fault  is  that  if  it  be  so  ?  Your  own ;  you,  who 
would  never  visit  her;  she  would  have  received  you  with 
pleasure,  and  I  have  not  concealed  from  you  the  satisfac- 
tion I  should  have  experienced.* 

These  last  words  made  the  duke  start,  his  eyes  be- 
came animated.  After  a  moment's  reflection  he  said  to 
the  king, 

"  Sire,  is  it  indispensably  necessary  for  the  service  of 
the  state  that  I  endeavor  to  attain  the  good-will  of  madame 
la  comtesse  du  Barry?* 

«No.» 

"Well,  then,  sire,  allow  matters  to  remain  as  they  are. 
It  would  cost  me  much  to  quarrel  with  my  whole  family, 
the  more  so  as  this  sacrifice  is  not  useful  to  you,  and 
would  in  no  wise  alter  my  position  with  your  majesty.* 

However  painful  to  the  king  such  a  determination 
might  be,  he  did  not  allow  the  duke  to  perceive  it;  he 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY 


153 


dissembled  the  resentment  lie  felt,  and  contented  him- 
self with  saying, 

(<  Due  de  Choiseul,  I  do  not  pretend  to  impose  chains 
on  you;  I  have  spoken  to  you  as  a  friend  rather  than 
as  a  sovereign.  Now  I  return  to  what  was  said  at  first, 
and  accept  with  confidence  the  promise  you  make  me 
not  to  torment  a  lady  whom  I  love  most  sincerely. M 

Thus  ended  a  conversation  from  which  the  duke,  with 
a  less  haughty  disposition,  might  have  extracted  greater 
advantages  and  played  a  surer  game.  It  was  the  last 
plank  of  safety  offered  in  the  shipwreck  which  menaced 
him.  He  disdained  it:  the  opportunity  of  seizing  it 
did  not  present  itself  again.  I  doubt  not  but  that  if 
he  would  have  united  himself  freely  and  sincerely  with 
me  I  should  not  have  played  him  false.  Louis  XV.,  satis- 
fied with  his  condescension  in  my  behalf,  would  have  kept 
him  at  the  head  of  his  ministry:  but  his  pride  ruined 
him,  he  could  not  throw  off  the  yoke  which  the  duchesse 
de  Grammont  had  imposed  on  him:  he  recoiled  from  the 
idea  of  telling  her  that  he  had  made  a  treaty  of  peace 
with  me,  and  that  was  not  one  of  the  least  causes  of 
his  disgrace. 

The  journey  to  Marly  gave  birth  to  a  multitude  of  in- 
trigues of  persons  who  thought  to  wrap  themselves  up 
in  profound  mystery,  and  all  whose  actions  we  knew. 
The  police  were  very  active  about  the  royal  abodes,  es- 
pecially since  the  fatal  deed  of  the  regicide  Damiens. 
To  keep  them  perpetually  on  the  watch,  they  were  ordered 
watch  attentively  the  amours  of  the  lords  and  ladies  of 
the  court. 

The  daughter  of  the  due  de  Richelieu,  the  comtesse 
d'Egmont,  whose  age  was  no  pretext  for  her  follies,  dearly 
liked  low  love  adventures.  She  used  to  seek  them  out  in 
Paris,  when  she  could  find  none  at  Versailles.  She  was 
not,  however,  the  more  indulgent  towards  me.  This  lady 
was  not  always  content  with  noble  lovers,  but  sought 
them  in  all  classes,  and  more  than  once,  simple  mortals, 
men  of  low  order,  obtained  preference  over  demi-gods. 
Her  conduct  in  this  respect  was  the  result  of  long  ex- 
perience. She  used  to  go  out  alone,  and  traverse  the 


154  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

streets  of  Paris.  She  entered  the  shops,  and  when  her 
eye  rested  on  a  good  figure,  having  wide  shoulders, 
sinewy  limbs,  and  a  good  looking  face,  she  then  called 
up  all  the  resources  of  her  mind  to  form  and  carry  on 
an  intrigue,  of  which  the  consequences,  at  first  agreeable 
to  him  who  was  the  object  of  it,  terminated  most  fre- 
quently fatally.  The  following  adventure  will  give  you 
an  idea  of  the  talent  of  madame  d'Egmont  in  this  way, 
and  how  she  got  rid  of  her  adorers  when  she  had  ex- 
hausted with  them  the  cup  of  pleasure. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Intrigue  of  the  comtesse  d'Egmont  with  a  shopman  —  His  unhappy 
fate  —  The  comtesse  du  Barry  protects  him  —  Conduct  of  Louis 
XV.  upon  the  occasion  —  The  young  man  quits  France  —  Madame  du 
Barry's  letter  to  the  comtesse  d'Egmont —  Quarrel  with  the  marechal 
de  Richelieu. 

ry^HE  comtesse  d'Egmont  was  one  day  observed  to  quit 
her  house  attired  with  the  most  parsimonious  sim- 
plicity; her  head  being  covered  by  an  enormously 
deep  bonnet,  which  wholly  concealed  her  countenance, 
and  the  rest  of  her  person  enveloped  in  a  pelisse,  whose 
many  rents  betrayed  its  long  service.  In  this  strange 
dress  she  traversed  the  streets  of  Paris  in  search  of  ad- 
ventures. She  was  going,  she  said,  wittily  enough,  (<  to 
return  to  the  cits  what  her  father  and  brother  had  so 
frequently  robbed  them  of. w  Chance  having  led  her  steps 
to  the  rue  St.  Martin,  she  was  stopped  there  by  a  con- 
fusion of  carriages,  which  compelled  her  first  to  shelter 
herself  against  the  wall,  and  afterwards  to  take  refuge 
in  an  opposite  shop,  which  was  one  occupied  by  a  linen- 
draper. 

She  looked  around  her  with  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur, 
and  perceived  beneath  the  modest  garb  of  a  shopman  one 
of  those  broad-shouldered  youths,  whose  open  smiling 
countenance  and  gently  tinged  complexion  bespoke  a 
person  whose  simplicity  of  character  differed  greatly  from 
the  vast  energy  of  his  physical  powers:  he  resembled  the 
Farnese  Hercules  upon  a  reduced  scale.  The  princess 
approached  him,  and  reqiiested  to  see  some  muslins,  from 
which  she  selected  two  gowns,  and  after  having  paid  for 
them,  requested  the  master  of  the  shop  to  send  his  shop- 
man with  them,  in  the  course  of  half  an  hour,  to  an  ad- 
dress she  gave  as  her  usual  abode. 


156  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

The  comtesse  d'Egmont  had  engaged  an  apartment  on 
the  third  floor  of  a  house  in  the  rue  Tiquetonne,  which 
was  in  the  heart  of  Paris.  The  porteress  of  the  dwelling 
knew  her  only  as  madame  Rossin:  her  household  con- 
sisted of  a  housekeeper  and  an  old  man,  both  devoted  to 
a  mistress  whose  character  they  well  understood,  and 
to  whom  they  had  every  motive  to  be  faithful. 

Here  it  was,  then,  that  the  lady  hastened  to  await  the 
arrival  of  the  new  object  of  her  plebeian  inclinations. 
Young  Moireau  (for  such  was  the  shopman's  name)  was 
not  long  ere  he  arrived  with  his  parcel.  Madame 
d'Egmont  was  ready  to  receive  him:  she  had  had  suf- 
ficient time  to  exchange  her  shabby  walking  dress  for 
one  which  bespoke  both  coquetry  and  voluptuousness; 
the  softness  of  her  smile,  and  the  turn  of  her  features 
announced  one  whose  warmth  of  passions  would  hold 
out  the  most  flattering  hopes  of  success  to  him  who 
should  seek  her  love. 

Madame  Rossin  and  the  young  shopman  were  soon  en- 
gaged in  conversation,  further  animated  by  the  bright 
glances  sent  direct  from  the  eyes  of  madame  to  the  un- 
guarded heart  of  her  admiring  visitor.  Emboldened  by 
the  graciousness  of  her  manner,  he  presumed  to  touch 
her  fair  hand:  the  lady,  in  affected  anger,  rose,  and 
commanded  him  to  quit  the  house.  The  terrified  youth 
fell  at  her  feet,  imploring  pardon  for  his  boldness,  and 
then  hastily  quitted  the  room  ere  the  feigned  madame 
Rossin  could  pronounce  the  forgiveness  he  demanded. 
"The  fool,"  was  (doubtless)  the  princess's  exclamation, 
"had  he  been  brought  up  at  court  he  would  have  con- 
ducted himself  very  differently.* 

This  silliness  of  proceeding  was,  however,  far  from 
being  displeasing  to  the  princess:  on  the  contrary,  it 
seemed  to  increase  her  determination  to  prosecute  the 
adventure.  Accordingly,  on  the  following  day  she  has- 
tened to  resume  her  former  walking  dress,  and  in  it  to 
take  the  road  which  led  to  the  rue  St.  Martin,  and  again 
to  present  herself  as  a  customer  at  the  linen-draper's 
shop.  This  time  she  purchased  cloth  for  chemises.  In- 
describable and  unspeakable  was  the  joy  of  young  Moireau, 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  157 

when,  after  having  served  the  mistress  of  his  thoughts, 
he  heard  her  request  of  his  master  to  allow  the  goods 
she  had  selected  to  be  sent  to  her  residence;  and  equally 
was  he  surprised  that  she  omitted  to  name  him  as  the 
person  she  wished  should  convey  them.  Nevertheless,  as 
may  be  imagined,  Moireau  obtained  possession  of  the 
parcel,  and  was  soon  on  his  way  to  the  rue  Tiquetonne, 
where  he  found  the  lady  more  languishing  and  attractive 
than  before ;  and  soon  they  were  deep  in  the  most  earnest 
and  interesting  conversation.  Moireau,  who  now  saw  that 
his  boldness  was  not  displeasing  to  the  lady,  became  more 
and  more  presuming:  true,  his  overtures  were  refused,  but 
so  gently,  that  it  only  fanned  his  flame;  nor  was  it  till 
after  reiterated  prayers  that  he  succeeded  in  obtaining 
her  promise  to  meet  him  on  the  following  Sunday.  The 
princess,  like  a  skilful  manosuvrer,  reckoned  upon  the 
additional  violence  his  ardor  would  receive  from  this  delay. 
The  affection  with  which  she  had  inspired  him  would 
only  gain  strength  by  thus  deferring  the  day  for  their 
next  meeting,  whilst  he  would  have  time  to  meditate 
upon  the  virtue  as  well  as  the  charms  of  her  he  had  won. 

The  long  looked  for  Sunday  at  length  arrived,  and 
Moireau  was  first  at  the  place  of  rendezvous.  His  simple 
dress  augmenting  his  natural  good  looks,  whilst  the 
countess  had  spared  no  pains  to  rendered  her  appearance 
calculated  to  captivate  and  seduce.  All  reserve  was 
thrown  aside;  and  to  satisfy  the  eager  curiosity  of  her 
lover,  she  stated  herself  to  be  the  widow  of  a  country 
lawyer,  who  had  come  to  Paris  to  carry  on  a  lawsuit.  It 
would  be  useless  to  follow  the  princess  during  the  further 
course  of  this  meeting.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  Moireau 
and  madame  d'Egmont  separated  mutually  happy  and 
satisfied  with  each  other. 

The  youth,  who  was  now  ages  gone  in  love,  had  only 
reached  his  twenty-second  year,  and  madame  Rossin  was 
his  first  attachment.  So  ardent  and  impetuous  did  his 
passion  hourly  grow,  that  it  became  a  species  of  insanity. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  high-born  dame,  who  had  thus 
captivated  him,  felt  all  the  attractions  of  his  simple  and 
untutored  love,  further  set  off  by  the  fine  manly  figure 


158  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

of  the  young  shopman.  Indeed,  so  much  novelty  and  in- 
terest did  she  experience  in  her  new  amour,  that,  far 
from  finding  herself,  as  she  had  expected,  disposed  to 
relinquish  the  affair  (as  she  had  anticipated)  at  the  end 
of  two  or  three  interviews,  which  she  had  imagined 
would  have  satisfied  her  capricious  fancy,  she  put  off,  to 
an  indefinite  period,  her  original  project  of  ending  the 
affair  by  feigning  a  return  to  the  country. 

This  resolution,  however,  she  did  not  feel  courage  to  carry 
into  effect;  and  two  or  three  months  rolled  rapidly  away 
without  any  diminution  of  their  reciprocal  flame,  when  one 
fine  Sunday  evening  Moireau,  whose  time  hung  heavily  on 
his  hands,  took  it  into  his  head  to  visit  the  opera.  This 
species  of  amusement  constitutes  the  neplus  ultra  of  the  de- 
lights of  a  French  cit.  Moireau  seated  himself  in  the  pit,  just 
opposite  the  box  of  the  gentlemen  in  waiting.  The  per- 
formance was  <(  Castor  and  Pollux. w  At  the  commencement 
of  the  second  act  a  sudden  noise  and  bustle  drew 
Moireau  from  the  contemplative  admiration  into  which 
the  splendor  of  the  piece  had  thrown  him.  The  disturb- 
ance arose  from  a  general  move,  which  was  taking  place 
in  the  box  belonging  to  the  gentlemen  in  waiting. 
Madame  d'Egmont  had  just  arrived,  attended  by  four  or 
five  grand  lords  of  the  court  covered  with  gold,  and 
decorated  with  the  order  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  two 
ladies  richly  dressed,  from  whom  she  was  distinguished 
as  much  by  the  superior  magnificence  of  her  attire  as  by 
her  striking  beauty. 

Moireau  could  not  believe  his  eyes;  he  felt  assured  he 
beheld  madame  Rossin,  yet  he  fancied  he  must  be  under 
the  influence  of  some  fantastic  dream;  but  every  look, 
every  gesture  of  the  princess,  a  thousand  trifles,  which 
would  have  escaped  the  notice  of  a  common  observer, 
but  which  were  engraved  in  indelible  characters  on  the 
heart  of  her  admirer,  all  concurred  to  assure  him  that  he 
recognised  in  this  lovely  and  dazzling  female,  so  splen- 
didly attired  and  so  regally  attended,  the  cherished  mis- 
tress of  his  affections;  she  whom  that  very  morning  he 
had  held  in  his  embrace.  He  addressed  a  thousand 
questions  to  those  about  him,  from  whom  he  learnt  his 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  159 

own  good  fortune  and  the  exalted  rank  of  her  he  had 
won.  Scarcely  could  he  restrain  the  burst  of  joy,  when 
informed  that  the  fair  object,  glittering  with  jewels  and 
radiant  in  beauty,  was  the  daughter  of  Richelieu,  and 
the  wife  of  one  of  the  princes  of  the  noble  house  of  Eg- 
mont. 

A  thousand  tumultuous  and  flattering  ideas  rushed  in 
crowds  to  the  brain  of  young  Moireau,  and  he  saw  in  an- 
ticipation a  long  and  brilliant  vista  opening  before  him. 
Poor  inexperienced  youth!  He  mistook  the  wisest  and 
safest  path,  which  would  have  been  to  have  appeared 
ignorant  of  the  high  rank  of  his  mistress,  and  to  have 
induced  her,  from  motives  of  affection,  to  preside  over 
his  fortunes,  and  to  rise  by  her  means  without  allowing 
her  to  suspect  he  guessed  her  ability  to  bestow  riches 
and  preferment.  He,  on  the  contrary,  hastened  to  her 
with  the  account  of  his  having  discovered  her  real  rank 
and  station.  Madame  d'Egmont,  whose  self-possession 
enabled  her  to  conceal  the  terror  and  uneasiness  his  re- 
cital inspired  her  with,  listened  calmly  and  silently  till 
he  had  ceased  speaking,  and  then  asked  him,  with  a 
playful  smile,  if  he  was  quite  sure  of  being  in  his  right 
senses?  (<  For  how  otherwise  could  you,*  said  she,  (<  con- 
fuse a  poor  obscure  widow  like  myself  with  the  rich  and 
powerful  princess  you  speak  of  ?  My  friend,  you  are  under 
the  influence  of  a  dream ;  believe,  me,  I  am  neither  more 
nor  less  than  poor  widow  Rossin,  and  can  boast  of  no 
claim  to  the  illustrious  name  of  Egmont  or  Richelieu.* 

But  the  more  she  spoke  the  less  she  persuaded,  and 
young  Moireau  was  not  to  be  reasoned  out  of  his  con- 
viction of  her  identity  with  the  high-born  princess  of  Eg- 
mont, and  he  alternately  employed  threats  and  promises 
to  induce  her  to  confess  the  fact ;  but  the  lady  was  firm 
and  immovable.  Resolved  at  all  risk  to  preserve  her  in- 
cognito, she  found  herself  compelled  to  bring  the  affair 
to  a  conclusion,  by  feigning  extreme  anger  at  the  per- 
tinacity with  which  Moireau  importuned  her  upon  a  sub- 
ject which  she  protested  she  knew  nothing:  her  lover 
retaliated,  and  a  desperate  quarrel  ensued.  Moireau  rushed 
angrily  from  her  presence,  vowing  that  he  would  pub- 


160  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

lish  his  adventure  thro'out  Paris;  an  empty  threat,  which 
his  devotion  to  the  princess  would  never  have  permitted 
him  to  carry  into  execution. 

Madame  d'Egmont,  however,  was  not  so  sure  that  her 
secret  was  safe,  and  she  lost  not  an  instant  in  repairing 
to  the  house  of  M.  de  Sartines,  to  obtain  from  him  a 
lettre  de  cachet  against  the  aspiring  shopman,  who,  seized 
in  the  street,  was  conveyed  away,  and  confined  as  a  maniac 
in  a  madhouse,  where,  but  for  a  circumstance  you  shall 
hear,,  he  would  doubtless  be  still. 

I  happened  to  be  with  the  king  when  the  lieutenant 
of  police  arrived  upon  matters  connected  with  his  em- 
ployment. According  to  custom,  Louis  inquired  whether 
he  had  anything  very  amusing  to  communicate  to  him  ? 
"Many  things,  sire,w  replied  he,  <(and  amongst  others  an 
anecdote  of  madame  d'Egmont";  and  he  began  to  relate 
to  us,  word  for  word,  what  I  have  written  you.  The 
king  laughed  till  he  cried;  as  for  me,  altho'  I  could  not 
help  finding  the  tale  sufficiently  comic  to  induce  risibility. 
I  listened  with  more  coolness;  and  when  it  was  com- 
pleted, I  exclaimed, 

"  Can  it  be,  sire,  that  you  will  permit  this  unfortunate 
young  man  to  be  the  eternal  victim  of  so  unprincipled  a 
woman  ?  w 

"  What  would  you  have  me  do  ?  *  said  Louis ;  <(  how  can 
I  interfere  without  compromising  the  reputation  of  madame 
d'Egmont  ?  * 

"Allow  me  to  say,"  replied  I,  "that  this  fear  ought  not 
to  prevent  your  majesty's  interference.  You  are  father 
of  your  subjects;  and  the  respect  you  entertain  for 
madame  d'Egmont  should  not  outweigh  your  duty,  which 
imperatively  calls  upon  you  to  command  the  release  of 
this  wretched  young  man.® 

"But,"  argued  the  king,  "by  such  a  step  I  shall  for 
ever  disoblige  the  due  de  Richelieu  and  his  family." 

"  Fear  it  not,®  cried  I,  "if  your  majesty  will  trust  to  me, 
I  will  undertake  to  bring  the  mare'chal  and  his  nephew 
to  approve  of  your  proceedings ;  and  as  for  the  rest  of  his 
family,  let  them  go  where  they  will;  for  the  empire  of 
the  world  I  should  be  sorry  to  bear  them  company." 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  161 

This  manner  of  speaking  pleased  the  king;  and,  turn- 
ing to  M.  de  Sartines,  "  Lieutenant  of  police, "  said  he, 
(<  you  have  heard  my  fair  chancellor ;  you  will  act  in  strict 
conformity  with  the  orders  she  will  transmit  you  from 
me.* 

(<  Then  take  these  orders  now,  sir, "  said  I :  <(  in  the  first 
place,  this  ill-treated  young  Moireau  must  immediately  be 
set  at  liberty,  and  my  own  police  (for  I  must  tell  you  I 
had  them)  will  give  me  the  faithful  account  of  all  your 
proceedings  in  this  affair.* 

The  king  comprehended  my  meaning.  <(  You  will  keep 
a  careful  watch,"  added  he  to  M.  de  Sartines,  "that  no 
harm  befalls  this  unfortunate  youth,  whom,  I  beg,  you 
will  discreetly  recommend  to  quit  France  ere  the  malice 
of  those  who  have  reason  to  fear  his  reappearance  works 
him  some  evil.* 

"And  who,  sire,"  asked  I,  "shall  dare  injure  one  whom 
your  majesty  deigns  to  honor  with  your  protection  ?  * 

"Madame,"  replied  M.  de  Sartines,  "even  his  majesty's 
high  patronage  cannot  prevent  a  secret  blow  from  some 
daring  hand;  a  quarrel  purposely  got  up;  a  beverage 
previously  drugged;  a  fall  from  any  of  the  bridges  into 
the  river;  or,  even  the  supposition  of  one  found  dead, 
having  destroyed  himself." 

"You  make  me  shudder,"  said  I,  "in  thus  unveiling 
the  extent  of  human  depravity.  So,  then,  this  young 
man,  whose  only  fault  appears  to  have  been  that  of  cap- 
tivating the  eyes  of  a  noble  lady,  should  perish  in  a 
dungeon,  or  save  his  life  at  the  sacrifice  of  country, 
friends,  connections;  and  all  this  for  having  listened  to 
the  passion  of  a  woman,  as  licentious  in  manners  as 
illustrious  by  birth:  this  frightful  injustice  rouses  all  my 
indignation.  Well,  then,  since  the  power  of  the  monarch 
of  France  is  insufficient  to  protect  his  oppressed  subject 
in  his  own  realms,  let  him  shield  him  from  want  in  a 
foreign  land,  by  allowing  him  a  pension  of  one  hundred 
louis.  I  will  take  upon  myself  to  defray  the  expenses  of 
his  journey." 

Thus  saying,  I  was  hastening  to  the  adjoining  room, 
where  stood  my  secretaire,  to  take  from  it  a  thousand 


162  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

crowns  I  wished  to  give  for  the  purpose.  The  king  held 
me  back  by  my  arm,  saying  to  me, 

<(  You  are  the  most  excellent  creature  I  know  of,  but 
you  see  I  am  always  master.  I  will  undertake  to  pro- 
vide for  this  young  man.  M.  de  Sartines, }>  pursued  he, 
<(  I  wish  to  secure  to  him  a  thousand  crowns  yearly ;  and, 
further,  you  will  supply  him  with  six  thousand  francs 
ready  money,  which  M.  de  la  Borde  will  repay  to  your 
order.  Now  are  you  satisfied,  Couci  f  *  said  the  king, 
turning  to  me. 

My  only  reply  was  to  throw  my  arms  around  his  neck 
without  ceremony,  spite  of  the  presence  of  a  witness, 
who  might  blush  at  my  familiarity.  (<  You  are  indeed, w 
said  I,  <(  a  really  good  prince ;  it  is  only  a  pity  you  will 
not  assert  your  right  to  rule  alone. w 

<(  You  are  a  little  rebel, J>  cried  he,  (<  to  doubt  my  absolute 
power.  *  This  tone  of  playful  gaiety  was  kept  up  some 
time  after  the  departure  of  the  lieutenant  of  police. 

M.  de  Sartines  returned  next  day  to  tell  me  that  every- 
thing had  been  accomplished  to  my  desire.  (<  M.  Moireau,8 
said  he,  (<  has  left  prison,  and  departs  for  Spain  to-morrow 
morning:  his  intention  is  to  join  some  friends  of  his  at 
Madrid.  He  is  informed  of  all  he  owes  you,  and  en- 
treats your  acceptance  of  his  most  grateful  and  respectful 
acknowledgments.  Will  you  see  him  ?  w 

"That  would  be  useless, w  answered  I;  <(  say  to  him 
only,  that  I  request  he  will  write  to  me  upon  his  arrival 
at  Madrid,  and  give  me  the  history  of  his  late  adventure 
in  its  fullest  details.* 

Moireau  did  not  disappoint  me;  and  so  soon  as  his 
letter  reached  me  I  hastened  to  copy  it,  merely  suppress- 
ing the  date  of  the  place  from  which  it  was  written,  and 
forwarded  it  immediately  to  the  comtesse  d'Egmont,  with 
the  following  note:  — 

«The  many  proofs  of  tender  attachment  with  which  the  widow 
Rossin  honored  young  Moireau  make  me  believe  that  she  will  learn 
with  pleasure  of  my  having  the  good  fortune  to  rescue  the  ill-fated 
youth  from  the  cruelty  of  the  comtesse  d'Egmont.  This  interesting 
young  man  no  longer  groans  a  wretched  prisoner  in  the  gloomy 
abode  that  haughty  lady  had  selected  for  him,  but  is  at  this  minute 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  163 

safe  in  a  neighboring  kingdom,  under  the  powerful  patronage  of  the 
king  of  France,  who  is  in  possession  of  every  circumstance  relative 
to  the  affair.  I  likewise  know  the  whole  of  the  matter,  and  have  in 
my  keeping  the  most  irrefragable  proofs  of  all  that  took  place;  and 
should  I  henceforward  have  any  reason  to  complain  of  the  comtesse 
d'Egmont,  I  shall  publish  these  documents  with  permission  of  those 
concerned. 

«The  public  will  then  be  enabled  to  judge  of  the  virtue  and 
humanity  of  one  who  affects  to  treat  me  with  a  ridiculous  disdain. 
There  exists  no  law  against  a  fair  lady  having  lovers  and  admirers, 
but  a  stern  one  forbids  her  to  command  or  procure  their  destruction. 
I  KNOW  ALL;  and  madame  d'Egmont's  future  conduct  will  decide  my 
silence  and  discretion.  The  affair  with  Moireau  is  not  the  only  one, 
others  of  even  a  graver  sin  preceded  it.  I  can  publish  the  whole  to- 
gether ;  and,  I  repeat,  my  determination  on  this  head  depends  wholly 
and  entirely  upon  the  manner  in  which  madame  d'Egmont  shall 
henceforward  conduct  herself  towards  me.  I  beg  madame  de  Rossin 
will  allow  me  to  subscribe  myself,  with  every  feeling  she  so  well 
merits, 

(<  Her  very  humble  and  most  obedient  servant, 

<(THE  COMTESSE  DU  BARRY.W 

I  had  communicated  to  no  one  the  secret  of  this  ven- 
geance ;  I  wished  to  keep  the  delight  of  thus  exciting  the 
rage  of  the  princesse  d'Egmont  all  to  myself.  I  was 
certain,  that  whatever  might  henceforward  be  her  line  of 
conduct  towards  me,  that  whenever  she  found  herself  in 
my  presence,  she  would  bitterly  feel  the  stings  of  an  ac- 
cusing conscience,  and  the  gnawings  of  that  worm  which 
dieth  not  in  the  heart  of  hypocritical  and  wicked  per- 
sons, more  especially  when  compelled  to  meet  the  eye  of 
those  who  could  unmask  them  in  a  minute. 

On  the  following  day  I  received  a  visit  from  the  due 
de  Richelieu.  Spite  of  the  many  endeavors  he  made  to 
appear  smiling  and  good  humored,  a  deep  rage  kept  its 
station  round  his  mouth,  and  contracted  his  lips  even  in 
the  midst  of  the  artificial  smile  with  which  he  sought  to 
dissimulate  his  wrath. 

(<  Madame,  good  morning, w  said  he  to 'me,  (<  I  come  to 
offer  my  congratulations,  you  really  are  become  quite  one 
of  us;  upon  my  word,  the  most  experienced  courtier  has 
nothing  more  to  teach  you.* 

(<  I  am  as  yet  in  ignorance  of  the  cause  to  which  I  may 
ascribe  these  compliments,  M.  le  Mare*chal,  which  I  greatly 


164  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

fear  surpass  my  poor  merits;  and  which  even  you  will  be 
compelled  to  retract  them  when  I  am  better  known  to 
you.  * 

<(  Fear  it  not,  madame, w  said  he,  <(  your  commencement 
is  a  master-stroke ;  and  the  letter  you  yesterday  addressed 
to  the  comtesse  d'Egmont — * 

(<  Ah,  sir, w  exclaimed  I,  with  unfeigned  astonishment, 
(<  in  her  place  I  certainly  should  not  have  selected  you  as 
my  confidant  in  the  affair." 

"And  who  could  she  better  have  selected  than  her 
father  ?  But  that  is  not  the  matter  in  hand.  My  daugh- 
ter is  filled  with  anger  against  you;  and  if  I  must  speak 
the  truth,  I  do  not  think  your  behavior  towards  her  quite 
what  it  should  have  been.* 

<(  Really,  monsieur,  I  was  not  prepared  for  a  reproach 
of  this  kind;  and  what  can  madame  d'Egmont  allege 
against  me  ?  'Tis  she  who  has  pursued  me  with  the  most 
bitter  sarcasms,  the  most  determined  malice;  and,  I  may 
add,  the  most  impertinent  behavior.  I  entreat  your  pardon 
for  using  such  strong  expressions,  but  her  behavior  allows 
of  none  milder.  And  what  have  I  done  in  my  turn  ? 
snatched  from  a  lingering  death  an  unfortunate  young 
man,  whose  only  crime  consisted  in  having  pleased  this 
unreasonable  madame  d'Egmont.  I  procured  the  king's 
protection  for  the  miserable  object  of  the  princess's  affec- 
tion; I  obtained  his  safe  removal  to  another  country; 
and,  having  done  all  this,  I  communicated  my  knowledge 
of  the  transaction  to  the  comtesse  d'Egmont.  Does  this 
bear  any  comparison  with  her  line  of  conduct  towards  me  ?  * 

(<But  your  letter,  madame;  your  letter — M 

<(  Would  bear  alterations  and  amendments,  sir,  I  am 
aware:  I  admit  I  did  not  sufficiently  insist  upon  the 
atrocity  of  such  an  abuse  of  power. w 

"You  are  then  resolved,  madame,  to  make  us  your 
enemies. w 

<(  I  should  be  very  sorry,  monsieur  le  due,  to  be  com- 
pelled to  such  extremities;  but  if  your  friendship  can 
only  be  purchased  at  the  price  of  my  submitting  to  con- 
tinually receive  the  insults  of  your  family,  I  should  be 
the  first  to  cease  to  aspire  to  it.  If  madame  d'Egmont 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  165 

holds  herself  aggrieved  by  me,  let  her  carry  her  com- 
plaint before  the  parliament;  we  shall  then  see  what 
redress  she  will  get.  She  has  compromised  the  king's 
name  by  an  arbitrary  act ;  and  since  you  thus  attack  me, 
you  must  not  take  it  amiss  if  I  make  the  king  acquainted 
with  the  whole  business." 

The  mare'chal,  surprised  at  so  severe  a  reply,  could 
no  longer  restrain  the  rage  which  filled  him.  <(  I  should 
have  thought,  madame,"  said  he,  <(that  my  daughter,  in 
whose  veins  flows  royal  blood,  might  have  merited  some 
little  consideration  from  the  comtesse  du  Barry.* 

<(It  is  well,  then,  monsieur  le  due,*  replied  I,  <(to 
point  out  to  you  your  error.  I  see  in  my  enemies  their 
works  and  actions  alone,  without  any  reference  to  their 
birth,  be  it  high  or  low;  and  the  conduct  of  madame 
d'Egmont  has  been  so  violent  and  unceasing  towards 
me,  that  it  leaves  me  without  the  smallest  regret  for  that 
I  have  pursued  towards  her." 

I  had  imagined  that  this  reply  would  still  further 
irritate  the  angry  feelings  of  the  due  de  Richelieu,  but 
it  did  not :  he  easily  guessed  that  nothing  but  the  king's 
support  could  have  inspired  me  to  express  myself  with 
so  much  energy;  and,  if  paternal  vanity  strove  in 
his  heart,  personal  interests  spoke  there  with  even  a 
louder  voice.  He  therefore  sought  to  lay  aside  his  anger, 
and,  like  a  skilful  courtier,  changing  his  angry  look  and 
tone  for  one  of  cheerfulness: 

<(  Madame, "  said  he,  <(  I  yield ;  I  see  it  will  not  do  to 
enter  the  lists  against  you.  I  confess  I  came  this  morn- 
ing but  to  sound  your  courage,  and  already  you  have 
driven  me  off  the  field  vanquished.  There  is  one  favor 
I  would  implore  of  your  generosity,  and  that  is,  to  be 
silent  as  to  all  that  has  transpired." 

(<  I  shall  not  speak  of  it,  monsieur  le  due, "  replied  I, 
much  moved,  <(  unless  you  or  madame  d'Egmont  set  me 
the  example." 

<(  In  that  case  the  affair  will  for  ever  remain  buried  in 
oblivion;  but,  madame,  I  will  not  conceal  from  you,  that 
my  daughter  has  become  your  most  bitter  and  irrecon- 
cilable enemy." 


166  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

<(  The  motives  which  have  actuated  me,  monsieur  le 
marechal,  are  such  as  to  leave  me  very  little  concern 
upon  that  subject.  I  flatter  myself  this  affair  will  not 
keep  you  away  from  me,  who  would  fain  reckon  as  firmly 
on  your  friendship  as  you  may  do  on  mine. w 

The  marechal  kissed  my  hand  in  token  of  amity,  and 
from  that  moment  the  matter  was  never  mentioned. 

A  similar  scene  had  already  occurred  with  the  prince 
de  Soubise,  relative  to  the  exile  of  his  daughter.  Was  it 
not  'somewhat  strange,  as  well  as  unjust,  that  all  the 
noblemen  of  the  day  wished  to  preserve  to  their  relations 
the  right  of  offending  me  with  impunity,  without  permit- 
ting me  even  the  right  of  defending  myself. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

Madame    du  Barry  separates    from    madame    de  Beam  —  Letters   be- 
tween these  ladies  —  Portrait  of  madame  de  I'H&pital  —  The  ladder 

—  The  bell  —  Conversation  with  madame  de  Mirepoix —  First  visit 
to  Chantilly  —  Intrigues  to  prevent  the  countess  from  going  thither 

—  The  king's  displeasure  towards  the  princesses  —  The  archbishop 
de  Senlis. 

THE  spoiled  child  of  fortune,  I  had  now  attained  the  height 
of  my  wishes.  The  king's  passion  augmented  daily, 
and  my  empire  became  such  as  to  defy  the  utmost 
endeavors  of  my  enemies  to  undermine  it.  Another 
woman  in  my  place  would  have  employed  her  power  in 
striking  terror  amongst  all  who  were  opposed  to  her,  but 
for  my  own  part  I  contented  myself  with  repulsing  their 
attempts  to  injure  me,  and  in  proceeding  to  severity 
only  when  my  personal  interests  were  too  deeply  con- 
cerned to  admit  of  my  passing  the  matter  over  in  silence. 

There  was  no  accusation  too  infamous  to  be  laid  to  my 
charge;  amongst  other  enormities  they  scrupled  not  to 
allege  that  I  had  been  the  murderess  of  Lebel,  the  king's 
valet-de-chambre,  who  died  by  poison!  Was  it  likely, 
was  it  probable  that  I  should  seek  the  destruction  of  him 
to  whom  I  owed  my  elevation,  the  most  devoted  of 
friends,  and  for  whom  my  heart  cherished  the  most 
lively  sense  of  gratitude  ?  What  interest  could  I  possibly 
derive  from  the  perpetration  of  such  a  crime  ?  The  im- 
putation was  too  absurd  for  belief,  but  slander  cares  little 
for  the  seeming  improbability  of  such  an  event.  The 
simple  fact  remained  that  Lebel  was  dead,  of  course  the 
cruel  and  unjust  consequence  became  in  the  hands  of  my 
enemies,  that  I  had  been  the  principal  accessory  to  it. 

My  most  trifling  actions  were  misrepresented  with  the 
same  black  malignity.  They  even  made  it  a  crime  in  me 

(167) 


168  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

to  have  written  to  madame  de  Beam,  thanking  her  for 
her  past  kindnesses,  and  thus  setting  her  at  liberty  to 
retire  from  the  mercenary  services  she  pretended  to  have 
afforded  me.  And  who  could  blame  me  for  seeking  to 
render  myself  independent  of  her  control,  or  for  becom- 
ing weary  of  the  tyrannical  guidance  of  one  who  had 
taken  it  into  her  head  that  I  had  become  her  sole  prop- 
erty, and  who,  in  pursuance  of  this  idea,  bored  and  tor- 
mented me  to  death  with  her  follies  and  exactions,  and 
even  .took  upon  herself  to  be  out  of  humor  at  the  least 
indication  of  my  attaching  myself  to  any  other  lady  of 
the  court.  According  to  her  view  of  things,  gratitude 
imposed  on  me  the  rigorous  law  of  forming  an  intimacy 
with  her  alone;  in  a  word,  she  exercised  over  me  the 
most  galling  dominion,  which  my  family  had  long  coun- 
selled me  to  shake  off;  in  truth,  I  was  perfectly  tired  of 
bearing  the  yoke  her  capricious  and  overbearing  temper 
imposed  upon  me,  but  I  determined,  if  possible,  to  do 
nothing  hastily,  and  to  endure  it  with  patience  as  long  as 
I  could.  But  now  that  the  number  of  my  female  friends 
was  augmented  by  the  addition  of  the  marquise  de  Mont- 
morency  and  the  comtesse  de  1'Hopital  I  determined  no 
longer  to  bear  the  constant  display  of  madame  de  Beam's 
despotic  sway,  and  finding  no  chance  of  accommodating 
our  tastes  and  humors,  I  resolved  to  free  myself  from 
her  thraldom.  Another  powerful  reason  for  this  measure 
was  the  dislike  with  which  the  king  regarded  her;  not 
that  she  was  deficient  in  birth  or  good  breeding,  but 
amidst  the  polish  of  high  life  she  occasionally  introduced 
the  most  vulgar  and  provincial  manners,  a  fault  of  all 
others  most  offensive  to  the  king,  whose  disgust  was 
further  excited  by  the  undisguised  avidity  with  which,  at 
every  opportunity,  she  sought  to  turn  her  admission  to 
the  king's  private  society  to  account,  by  preferring  some 
request  or  soliciting  some  particular  favor.  Instead  of  giv- 
ing herself  up  to  the  joy  and  hilarity  that  reigned  around, 
she  seemed  always  on  the  watch  to  seize  every  possible 
advantage  to  herself.  Immediately  that  the  king  was 
apprized  of  my  intention  of  dismissing  her  from  any 
further  cares  for  me,  "You  are  quite  right, w  said  he,  *  to 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  169 

get  rid  of  this  troublesome  woman,  who  never  visits  us 
without  calculating  the  degree  of  interest  she  can  derive 
from  it,  and  seems  to  me,  whenever  she  approaches  me, 
as  tho'  she  were  devising  some  fresh  petition  to  obtain 
from  me.  And  now,  too,  that  the  first  ladies  of  the  court 
fill  your  drawing-rooms,  why  should  you  endure  her 
importunate  presence  ? >J 

Strengthened  by  these  sentiments  on  the  king's  part, 
I  lost  no  time  in  writing  to  madame  de  Beam  a  letter, 
of  which  many  false  copies  were  circulated;  however,  I 
subjoin  the  following  as  the  veritable  epistle  addressed 
by  me  to  the  countess :  — 

(<  MADAME, — It  would  be  the  height  of  selfishness  on  my  part  to 
tax  further  the  kindness  and  attention  you  have  been  pleased  to 
show  me.  I  am  well  aware  how  many  public  and  private  duties  claim 
your  care,  and  I  therefore  (with  much  regret)  beg  to  restore  to  you 
that  liberty  you  have  so  generously  sacrificed  to  my  interests.  Con- 
scious of  the  ennui  which  oppresses  you  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
I  write  to  entreat  that  you  will  allow  no  consideration  connected 
with  me  to  detain  you  longer  in  a  place  so  irksome,  but,  since  our 
visit  to  Marly  is  concluded,  fly  upon  the  wings  of  impatience  to  the 
gay  scenes  of  Paris  and  Luxembourg.  Be  assured  that  it  will  at  all 
times  afford  me  much  pleasure  to  evince  the  gratitude  with  which  I 
shall  ever  remain, 

«  Madame,  yours  sincerely, 

((THE  COMTESSE  DU  BARRY. » 

<(P.  S.  I  am  commissioned  to  entreat  your  acceptance  of  the  ac- 
companying casket;  it  is  the  gift  of  one  whose  favors  are  never  re- 
fused; you  will  easily  guess  to  whom  I  allude,  and  I  doubt  not 
bring  yourself  to  conform  to  the  usual  custom. » 

The  jewels  sent  were  a  pair  of  ear-rings  and  an  agrafe 
of  emeralds  encircled  with  diamonds.  The  king  was 
desirous  of  bestowing  upon  madame  de  Beam  this  par- 
ticular mark  of  his  recollection  of  her  services  towards 
me,  but  it  did  not  allay  the  indignation  with  which  she 
expressed  her  sense  of  my  bitter  ingratitude,  as  she  termed 
it,  as  tho'  her  interested  co-operation  had  not  been  suffi- 
ciently repaid.  Nevertheless,  she  forbore  to  come  to  a 
decided  quarrel  with  me,  but  satisfied  herself  with  loading 
me  with  every  reproach  in  private,  whilst  she  wrote  to 
thank  me  for  all  the  favors  I  had  bestowed  upon  her,  and 


170  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

entreated  I  would  keep  her  remembrance  alive  in  the 
mind  of  my  royal  protector. 

As  there  was  nothing  offensive  in  the  style  of  the  letter 
I  showed  it  to  the  king ;  when  he  came  to  the  part  where 
madame  de  Beam  recommended  herself  to  his  kind  rec- 
ollection, and  expressed  her  desire  to  be  permitted  to 
throw  herself  once  more  at  his  feet,  <(  Heaven  preserve 
me,"  cried  he,  <(  f rom  receiving  this  mark  of  the  lady's 
respect.  No,  no,  she  is  bad  enough  at  a  distance;  I 
should  be  bored  to  death  were  she  so  near  to  me  as  she 
prays  for.  Thank  God-  we  have  got  rid  of  her,  and  now 
trust  to  your  own  guidance ;  try  the  powers  of  your  own 
wings  to  bear  you  in  safety,  I  feel  persuaded  you  will 
never  be  at  a  loss.  * 

About  this  time  the  prince  de  Soubise,  anxious  to  evince 
that  he  no  longer  retained  any  feelings  of  coolness  towards 
me,  requested  his  mistress,  madame  de  1'Hopital,  to  call 
upon  me.  This  lady,  without  being  a  regular  beauty,  was 
yet  very  attractive.  She  was  past  the  meridian  of  her 
charms,  but  what  she  wanted  in  youth  she  amply  com- 
pensated for  by  the  vivacity  and  brilliancy  of  her  conver- 
sation, as  well  as  the  freedom  of  her  ideas,  which  made 
her  the  idol  of  all  the  old  libertines  of  the  court.  The 
prince  de  Soubise  was  greatly  attached  to  her,  and  pre- 
ferred her  in  reality,  to  mademoiselle  Guimard,  whom  he 
only  retained  for  form's  sake,  and  because  he  thought  it 
suitable  to  his  dignity  to  have  an  opera  dancer  in  his  pay; 
this  nobleman  (as  you  will  find)  had  rather  singular  ideas 
of  the  duties  attached  to  his  station. 

Madame  de  1'Hopital  had  had  a  vast  number  of  gal- 
lant adventures,  which  she  was  very  fond  of  relating.  I 
shall  mention  two  of  the  most  amusing,  which  will  serve 
to  convey  an  idea  of  the  skilfulness  and  ready  wit  with 
which  she  extricated  herself  from  the  most  embarrassing 
circumstances. 

A  young  man,  whose  love  she  permitted,  whose  name 
was  the  chevalier  de  Cressy,  was  obliged,  in  order  to 
visit  her,  to  scale  a  terrace  upon  which  a  window  opened, 
which  conducted  to  the  sleeping-room  of  his  mistress. 
He  was  generally  accompanied  by  his  valet,  a  good-looking 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  171 

youth,  who,  disliking  a  state  of  idleness,  had  contrived  to 
insinuate  himself  into  the  good  graces  of  the  lady's  maid. 
The  valet,  during  his  master's  stay  with  madame,  had 
likewise  ascended  the  terrace,  and  penetrated,  by  the  aid 
of  another  window,  into  the  chamber  where  reposed  the 
object  of  his  tender  love.  All  this  was  accomplished  with 
as  little  noise  as  possible,  in  order  to  prevent  the  mis- 
chance of  awakening  the  marquis  de  I'Hopital,  who  was 
quietly  asleep  in  an  adjoining  room. 

One  clear  moonlight  night,  at  the  very  instant  when  M. 
de  Cressy  was  about  to  step  out  of  the  window,  in  order 
to  return  to  his  own  apartment,  a  terrible  crash  of  broken 
glass  was  heard.  The  terrified  chevalier  sought  the  aid  of 
his  ladder,  but  it  had  disappeared.  Not  knowing  what 
to  do,  the  chevalier  returned  to  madame  de  I'Hopital,  who. 
seized  with  terror,  had  only  just  time  to  conceal  him  in 
her  chamber,  when  the  marquis  opened  his  window  to 
ascertain  the  cause  of  all  this  confusion.  In  an  instant 
the  alarm  spread,  and  heads  were  popped  out  of  the  dif- 
ferent windows  of  the  castle,  each  vicing  with  the  other 
in  vociferating  <(  Thieves !  thieves !  murder !  fire !  w 

The  unfortunate  author  of  all  this  disturbance  was  the 
unlucky  valet;  who,  in  his  overeagerness  to  reach  his 
Dulcinea,  had  attempted  to  climb  his  ladder  so  nimbly, 
that  it  fell  down,  and,  striking  against  the  windows  of  a 
room  near  which  he  had  fixed  it,  had  broken  several 
panes  of  glass.  The  poor  valet  never  stopped  to  replace 
the  ladder ;  but,  terrified  as  well  as  hurt  by  his  rapid  de- 
scent, scrambled  off  as  well  as  he  could,  abandoning  his 
master  in  his  present  critical  situation. 

The  ladder  thrown  down  in  the  courtyard  was  abun- 
dant proof  that  some  audacious  attempt  had  been  made 
upon  the  lives  and  safety  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  castle ; 
and  the  general  determination  was  to  catch  the  thieves; 
for,  it  was  presumed,  as  no  outlet  for  their  escape  was 
discernible,  that  they  must  be  concealed  within  its  walls. 
The  servants,  with  their  master  at  their  head,  were 
speedily  assembled  for  the  purpose,  when  the  absence  of 
the  chevalier  de  Cressy  was  observed.  Where  could  he 
be  ?  was  the  general  wonder.  Was  it  possible  that,  amidst 


172  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

the  universal  uproar  with  which  the  castle  had  resounded, 
he  had  slept  so  soundly  as  to  be  yet  unconscious  of  all 
this  bustle  ?  An  over-officious  friend  was  upon  the  point 
of  going  to  his  chamber,  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  his 
absenting  himself  at  such  a  moment,  when  madame  de 
1'Hopital  sent  to  request  her  husband  would  come  to 
her  immediately.  (<  Sir, w  said  she,  when  they  were  alone, 
(<the  disturbance  which  has  thus  broken  our  rest  is  not 
the  work  of  thieves,  but  originates  in  the  shameless 
licentiousness  of  a  man  unworthy  of  his  name  and  the 
rank  he  occupies.  The  chevalier  de  '  Cressy,  forgetful 
of  his  being  your  guest,  and  of  respecting  the  honor  of 
all  beneath  your  roof,  has  dared  to  carry  on  a  base  in- 
trigue with  my  woman}  in  whose  apartment  you  will 
find  him  at  this  very  minute.  A  conduct  so  profligate 
and  insulting  fills  me  with  an  indignation  which  I  think 
that  you,  sir,  after  what  you  have  heard,  cannot  but  par- 
take.* 

The  marquis  de  1'Hopital,  who  did  not  see  the  thing 
in  the  same  serious  light,  sought  to  appease  the  virtuous 
indignation  of  his  lady,  and  went  himself  to  release  the 
chevalier  from  his  place  of  concealment;  leading  him 
thro'  his  own  apartment  to  join  the  crowd  of  armed 
servants,  who,  as  may  be  supposed,  were  unable  to  detect 
the  supposed  invaders  of  their  repose. 

On  the  following  morning  the  chevalier  as  agreed  upon, 
wrote  a  penitential  letter  to  madame,  entreating  her  par- 
don for  his  improper  attentions  to  her  servant,  whom 
she  affected  to  dismiss  with  every  mark  of  gravest  dis- 
pleasure. The  weeping  Abigail  threw  herself  at  the  feet 
of  her  mistress;  and  the  compassionate  marquis  (before 
whom  the  scene  was  enacted),  touched  with  pity,  implored 
his  lady  to  receive  the  afflicted  and  penitent  Javotte  once 
more  into  her  service.  This  was  at  length  granted  to 
his  solicitations;  and  Javotte  received  a  hundred  louis  as 
the  price  of  her  silence,  and  found  it  sufficient  compen- 
sation for  the  bad  opinion  the  marquis  entertained  of  her 
virtue. 

The  second  trick  the  marchioness  played  her  husband 
was  not  less  amusing. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  173 

The  chevalier  de  Cressy  and  herself  could  not  meet  so 
frequently  as  both  desired;  and  whilst  suffering  under 
the  void  occasioned  by  his  absence,  chance  threw  in 
her  way  a  young  relative  of  her  husband's,  a  youth  of 
about  eighteen,  as  beautiful  as  Love,,  and  as  daring  as 
that  god.  They  were  then  in  the  country  during  the  fine 
days  of  summer,  and  both  time  and  place  were  favorable 
to  the  prosecution  of  their  growing  passion.  One  day 
madame  de  1'Hopital  and  her  cousin  were  sauntering 
about  the  park  heedless  of  the  approaching  dinner-hour, 
and  equally  deaf  to  the  sound  of  the  dinner-bell,  which 
rung  its  accustomed  peal  in  vain  for  them  whose  ears 
were  occupied  in  listening  to  sweeter  sounds.  At  length 
the  master  of  the  house,  alarmed  at  the  protracted 
absence  of  his  wife  and  friend,  went  himself,  attended 
by  many  guests  assembled  at  his  house,  in  search  of  the 
stray  ones;  the  servants  likewise  received  orders  to  dis- 
perse themselves  over  the  grounds  in  different  directions ; 
and  madame  de  1'Hopital  and  her  companion  were  only 
aroused  to  a  recollection  of  the  flight  of  time  by  hear- 
ing their  names  loudly  shouted  by  a  dozen  different 
voices.  Fortunately  they  were  just  in  time  to  separate 
in  opposite  paths,  and  thus  to  enter  the  castle  without 
any  suspicion  being  excited  of  their  having  been  so  re- 
cently in  each  other's  company.  The  marquis  angrily 
remonstrated  with  his  lady  for  having  obliged  him  to 
send  in  search  of  her,  and  she  excused  herself  by  pro- 
testing that  she  had  not  heard  the  dinner-bell.  The 
marquis  replied,  that  the  thing  was  impossible;  and 
after  some  angry  discussion  the  matter  rested  there. 

A  few  days  after  this  the  marchioness,  with  her  hus- 
band and  cousin,  were  rambling  over  the  grounds,  when 
they  found  themselves  at  the  entrance  of  a  hermitage, 
where  madame  de  1'Hopital  had  told  the  marquis  she  had 
sat  down  to  rest  herself  on  the  day  of  her  failing  to  attend 
the  dinner-hour.  M.  de  1'Hopital  resumed  the  dispute,  by 
protesting  that  from  this  situation  the  dinner-bell  might 
easily  be  heard:  the  lady  continued  firm  in  protesting 
it  could  not;  till,  at  last,  feigning  extreme  anger,  she 
exclaimed,  <(  Well  then,  sir,  since  you  refuse  to  believe  my . 


174  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

assertion,  go  yourself  and  ring  the  bell  as  loudly  as  you 
please,  your  cousin  will  remain  here  with  me,  and  deter- 
mine if  it  be  possible  to  distinguish  the  sound  from  here." 
The  fool  of  a  marquis  set  off  in  the  height  of  his  zeal 
to  convince  his  wife,  and,  arrived  at  the  turret  where  the 
bell  was  placed,  began  ringing  it  with  all  his  might  and 
main,  leaving  the  lovers  the  undisturbed  opportunity  they 
were  not  slow  in  taking  advantage  of.  When  the  mar- 
quis had  ceased  his  chimes,  the  loving  pair  went  to  meet 
him. 

<(  Well,  my  good  cousin,  *  inquired  he,  as  they  approached, 
(<  which  of  us  was  right  ?  Could  you  hear  it  or  not  ?  * 

w  Yourself,  most  assuredly, >}  replied  the  young  man,  not 
without  a  slight  blush.  w  I  can  assure  you  that  both  ma- 
dame  and  myself  heard  the  bell  the  whole  time  you  were 
ringing  it.w 

<(  There,  I  told  you  so ;  I  told  you  so w ;  cried  the  de- 
lighted husband,  triumphantly  rubbing  his  hands. 

I  thought  when  this  lively  and  piquant  adventure  was 
related  to  me,  that  it  was  well  worthy  of  being  immor- 
talized by  the  pen  of  a  La  Fontaine.  The  marchioness 
gave  these  anecdotes  with  a  grace  and  talent  peculiarly 
her  own ;  and  I  sometimes  imagined  that  some  of  the  many 
she  favored  us  with  had  perhaps  taken  place  in  a  more 
recent  period  than  that  she  assigned  to  them;  and  that, 
in  order  to  divert  our  suspicions  as  to  who  were  the  real 
actors,  she  frequently  substituted  the  past  for  what  should 
have  been  with  more  correctness  the  present  time.  With 
manners  so  calculated  to  win,  she  could  not  fail  being  a 
delightful  companion,  altho'  in  my  heart  I  could  not  help 
giving  the  preference  to  the  society  of  the  mare'chale  de 
Mirepoix. 

Besides,  the  preference  evinced  by  this  lady  in  so  gen- 
erously separating  herself  from  all  her  family,  in  order 
to  attach  herself  to  me,  was  not  without  its  full  value  in 
my  eyes.  I  knew  myself  to  be  generally  disliked  by  her 
brother  and  sister-in-law,  the  prince  and  princesse  de 
Beauvau,  the  latter  of  whom  was  secretly  the  mistress 
of  the  due  de  Choiseul,  over  whom  she  exercised  an  equal 
empire  with  the  duchesse  de  Grammont,  and  I  was  every 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  175 

day  the  object  of  some  fresh  attack  on  their  part.  I  used 
sometimes  to  complain  of  this  to  the  mare'chale.  <(  My 
dear  friend, w  she  would  reply,  (<I  am  sorry,  but  cannot 
help  it;  in  the  midst  of  times  such  as  we  live  in,  and  in 
such  a  court  too,  the  prince  de  Beauvau  aspires  to  be  a 
noble  Roman,  and  would  fain  be  the  Cato  of  his  country 
at  least.  When  I  recommend  to  him  a  greater  degree  of 
prudence,  he  talks  to  me  of  virtue,  as  tho'  at  Versailles 
duty  did  not  consist  in  implicit  obedience  to  the  wishes 
of  our  royal  master;  either  obedience  or  absence  from 
court  is  the  golden  rule  laid  down,  from  which  none  dare 
deviate.  As  to  my  sister-in-law  she  aims  at  the  heroic 
likewise,  altho  her  models  are  formed  from  another 
school ;  in  fact,  she  has  pored  over  the  romances  of  Cyrus, 
Cassander,  and  Clelia,  till  she  is  half  bewildered,  and 
holds  forth  upon  the  virtues  of  these  famous  heroines, 
till  I  am  frequently  upon  the  point  of  exclaiming,  ( Ah, 
my  dear,  it  is  all  very  fine;  but  Clelia  and  Mandane 
would  not  have  shared  their  bed  with  the  due  de 
Choiseul.'" 

By  these  lively  sallies  the  mare'chale.  succeeded  in  di- 
verting my  anger  from  her  relations,  and  I  generally  for- 
got my  resentment  in  a  hearty  fit  of  laughter,  brought 
on  by  her  sprightly  conversation.  I  found  myself  become 
daily  more  attached  to  her,  and  her  presence  helped  to 
console  me  for  the  many  vexations  I  continually  en- 
countered. 

The  greatest  disagreeableness  I  encountered  was  occa- 
sioned by  the  capricious  behavior  of  the  princesses,  who 
sometimes  received  me  with  pleasure  and  at  others  evinced 
a  disposition  to  annoy  me  in  every  possible  way,  according 
as  it  suited  the  whims  and  wishes  of  those  about  them. 
The  following  may  serve  as  an  instance  of  their  versatility. 

The  prince  de  Conde"  having  announced  his  intention 
of  giving  a  grand  fete  at  Chantilly,  the  princesses  de- 
clared they  would  not  be  present  if  I  were  there.  The 
prince  de  Conde",  spite  of  his  claims  to  the  character  of 
a  great  man,  was  nevertheless  one  of  the  most  subtle 
courtiers;  and  as  soon  as  he  was  informed  of  the  princesses' 
intention,  he  came,  without  ceremony,  to  explain  the 


r/6  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

matter  to  me.  This  was  the  first  visit  he  had  honored 
me  with.  "Madame,"  said  he,  (<  I  had  flattered  myself 
you  would  have  embellished  Chantilly  with  your  presence ; 
but  the  beauties  of  the  court,  too  justly  alarmed  at  the 
idea  of  being  eclipsed  by  your  dazzling  charms,  have  so 
successfully  manoeuvred,  that  they  have  wrought  upon 
the  royal  daughters  of  our  august  monarch  to  declare, 
that  the  beauty  of  their  attending  nymphs  shall  not  be 
effaced  by  yours.  You  have  too  much  good  sense  to  see 
the  affair  in  any  but  its  true  light;  and  the  disappoint- 
ment your  absence  will  inflict  on  me  would  be  too  cruelly 
felt  for  endurance,  did  I  not  seek  to  pacify  my  anxious 
wishes  on  the  subject,  by  obtaining  your  promise  to  pay 
me  a  visit  when  the  king  next  honors  Chantilly  with  his 
presence. w 

I  felt  deeply  flattered  by  the  invitation.  The  prince 
continued  to  pay  me  several  elegant  and  gallant  com- 
pliments; and  I  was,  upon  the  whole,  charmed  with  our 
interview.  However,  the  king  was  highly  displeased  with 
his  daughters'  proceedings.  <(  I  have  a  great  incli- 
nation, w  said  he,  <(  to  forbid  their  going  to  Chantilly  at 
all.  Upon  my  word,  if  I  were  to  listen  to  them,  they 
would  fain  make  of  me  the  same  puppet  they  allow  them- 
selves to  become  in  the  hands  of  the  greatest  simpleton 
who  will  take  the  trouble  of  leading  them.* 

I  endeavored  to  appease  his  anger,  by  reminding  him, 
that  he  could  not  expect  perfection  from  his  daughters; 
and  that,  forced  as  they  were  to  hear  me  continually 
spoken  ill  of  by  my  enemies,  it  was  next  to  impossible 
they  should  be  able  to  prevent  themselves  from  adopt- 
ing the  opinion  of  those  around  them.  (<  And  that,  *  said 
he,  "is  what  I  principally  find  fault  with.  What 
have  they  to  do  with  aping  the  tone  of  those  about  them ; 
and  what  point  of  their  duty  teaches  them  to  detest 
those  whom  I  love  ?  I  will  take  care  to  let  them  know 
my  displeasure.* 

All  my  endeavors  were  in  vain;  I  could  obtain  no 
change  of  his  purpose;  and,  summoning  the  archbishop 
de  Senlis,  he  spoke  to  him  in  a  manner  that  plainly 
evinced  his  intention  of  making  him  responsible  for  the 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  177 

actions  of  the  princesses.  Poor  M.  de  Roquelaure  called 
all  the  saints  in  paradise  to  witness  his  innocence. 

"  Silence,  sir, w  exclaimed  the  king,  <(  I  am  perfectly  cer- 
tain this  affair  has  not  gone  on  without  your  knowledge, 
and  probable  participation.  I  know  you  well  for  a  per- 
son devoted  to  the  ladies,  as  a  gay,  gallant  gentleman 
need  be:  I  know  likewise  that  you  expend  the  revenues 
of  your  bishopric  and  livings  upon  the  prettiest  girls  of 
Paris ;  thus  I  can  hardly  suppose  you  would  have  counselled 
my  daughters'  conduct.  No,  I  blame  those  wicked  and 
vindictive  scandal-mongers,  whose  age  is  their  only  pro- 
tection, and  those  intriguing  men  who  beset  my  daugh- 
ters' ears." 

(<  Sire,  *  protested  the  trembling  bishop,  "  I  entreat  you 
to  believe  I  am  innocent  of  the  whole  affair.* 

(<  Sir, B  interrupted  the  king,  <(  I  know  well  that  you  are 
as  good  a  courtier  as  a  prelate,  but  still  I  believe  you 
merely  ape  your  betters;  and  far  from  entertaining  any 
personal  dislike  to  the  comtesse  du  Barry,  you  would  not 
object  to  receive  either  the  archbishopric  of  d'Albi  or 
Sens  from  her  hands,  were  they  in  her  power  to  be- 
stow. w 

The  conversation  went  on  in  this  style  for  more  than 
half  an  hour.  The  king,  who  had  amused  himself  highly 
at  the  terror  of  the  bishop,  left  off  in  excellent  humor. 

This  interview  had  not  been  productive  of  equal  amuse- 
ment to  M.  de  Roquelaure,  whose  self-love  had  been 
deeply  humbled  by  the  way  in  which  the  king  had  spoken. 
No  sooner  did  he  feel  himself  at  liberty,  than  he  has- 
tened to  communicate  to  the  princesses  the  violent  dis- 
pleasure they  had  excited;  and  these  ladies,  so  brave 
and  daring  whilst  their  father  appeared  to  offer  no  show 
of  authority  or  anger,  durst  proceed  no  further  when 
they  heard  of  his  seriously  disapproving  of  it;  and  they 
felt  the  full  inconsistency  of  their  conduct,  in  first  ad- 
mitting me  into  their  presence,  and  then  refusing  to  meet 
me  at  any  other  place.  The  consequence  of  their  delib- 
eration upon  the  subject  was  to  depute  the  bishop  de 
Senlis  to  call  upon  me.  This  accommodating  prelate  dis- 
charged his  mission  with  the  utmost  amenity,  presenting 


178  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

me  with  the  united  compliments  of  the  royal  sisters, 
who  all  joined  in  requesting  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
me  at  Chantilly.  Had  not  the  prince  de  Conde  held  out 
the  flattering  prospect  of  giving  me  a  fete  wholly  to 
myself,  in  all  probability  I  should  have  profited  by  their 
invitation;  but  knowing  of  the  secret  intention  of  the 
prince,  I  returned  for  answer,  <(that  it  was  sufficiently 
flattering  and  gratifying  to  me,  to  find  that  I  still  preserved 
any  portion  of  the  princesses'  kind  favor,  but  that  I  was 
abundantly  honored  by  the  intimation  of  my  presence 
being  agreeable.  Nevertheless,  as  I  had  good  authority 
for  conjecturing  that  it  might  not  be  equally  so  to  many 
of  the  ladies  of  their  court,  I  should  abstain  from  giving 
offence  to  any  one  by  my  presence." 

<(  Ah,  madame,8  cried  M.  de  Roquelaure,  (<  I  entreat  of 
you  not  to  insist  upon  my  carrying  the  latter  part  of  this 
message  to  the  princesses,  they  would  be  so  much  grieved. " 

"Well,  then,  sir,"  said  I,  <(tell  them  that  I  am  indis- 
posed, and  that  the  state  of  my  health  will  detain  me  at 
Versailles. w 

"That  indeed, *  said  he,  (<  is  a  more  respectful  mes- 
sage; and  further  I  would  venture  to  ask  of  your 
goodness,  that  since  it  is  not  your  pleasure  to  honor 
Chantilly  with  your  presence,  that  you  will  have  the 
kindness  to  mention  in  the  proper  quarter,  that  far 
from  my  royal  ladies  opposing  any  obstacle  to  your  go- 
ing, they  would  have  been  much  delighted  with  your  pres- 
ence there.* 

<(  Be  assured,  sir, "  answered  I,  (<  that  I  shall  ever  feel 
proud  and  honored  by  the  princesses'  notice;  and  I  will 
take  care  that  the  faithful  account  of  all  their  gracious 
condescension  shall  be  faithfully  and  loudly  reported.  * 

The  bishop  departed  much  pleased  with  the  success  of 
his  negotiation;  and,  above  all,  with  the  agreeable  turn 
the  affair  had  taken. 

When  I  next  saw  the  king,  I  said  to  him,  <(  Your  daugh- 
ters, sire,  are  as  amiable  as  you  would  have  them;  they 
have  been  informed  that  some  evil  disposed  persons  have 
asserted,  that  they  had  prohibited  my  being  of  the  party 
to  Chantilly;  and  in  order  to  testify  how  differently  they 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  179 

were  disposed  towards  me,  they  despatched  the  bishop  de 
Senlis.» 

(<A  most  fit  person  to  be  intrusted  with  such  a  com- 
mission, *  replied  the  king;  "for  I  have,  in  every  in- 
stance, endeavored  to  justify  the  wishes  of  this  holy 
pillar  of  the  church,  this  worthy  prelate  with  his 
double-faced  politeness,  towards  those  whom  he  openly 
compliments,  and  reviles  in  private,  just  as  his  interest 
may  require  it.  Well !  and  what  did  you  say  to  him  ? * 

<(  That  I  most  humbly  thanked  the  princesses,  but  that 
the  state  of  my  health  did  not  permit  of  my  visiting 
Chantilly  for  the  present.* 

"That  is  all  very  well,*  answered  Louis  XV.;  <(you 
have  framed  your  excuse  with  much  generosity,  which  I 
greatly  fear  will  meet  with  a  very  different  turn;  for  if 
you  do  not  accompany  me  to  Chantilly,  the  report  circu- 
lated will  be,  that  the  princesses  have  forbidden  you  their 
presence;  which  my  dearly  beloved  daughters,  whose 
characters  I  fully  understand,  will  neither  affirm  nor  deny 
before  the  public,  whilst  in  private  they  will  vow  that 
they  prohibited  you  from  following  them.  Always  ex- 
cepting madame  Louise,  who  is  an  angel  upon  earth,  as 
she  will  most  assuredly  be  one  day  in  heaven,  where  I 
trust  her  prayers  for  me  and  mine  will  be  heard.* 

I  did  not  at  the  time  pay  any  particular  attention  to 
the  latter  part  of  the  king's  discourse,  for,  indeed,  the 
beginning  was  far  more  interesting  to  me;  but  when  I 
afterwards  learnt  that  madame  Louise  had  quitted  the 
grandeurs  of  Versailles  for  the  gloom  and  austerity  of  a 
convent,  I  recollected  it,  and  easily  comprehended  that  it 
was  spoken  in  allusion  to  an  event  which  took  place  some 
time  afterwards,  and  of  which  I  shall  speak  in  its  proper 
place.  However,  the  king's  prediction  was  exactly  veri- 
fied; and  the  report  in  general  circulation  was,  that  the 
princesses  had  declared  their  intention  of  not  going  to 
Chantilly;  it  was  further  rumored,  that  I  was  there,  but 
in  a  private  and  concealed  manner.  This  is  wholly  un- 
true ;  the  king  would  never  have  permitted  such  a  humili- 
ation; nor  do  I  believe  I  should  have  submitted  to  it 
had  he  even  desired  it.  However  all  this  may  be,  he 


180  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

sought  to  recompense  me  for  his  absence  by  writing  a 
most  delightful  letter,  which  I  will  subjoin  for  your  grati- 
fication. To  me  it  was  of  so  much  the  greater  value,  that 
having  its  royal  writer's  permission  to  show  it,  it  became 
the  first  death-blow  I  aimed  at  the  cabal  against  me. 
The  king  possessed  a  much  greater  portion  of  wit  and 
talent  than  the  weakness  and  timidity  of  his  character 
permitted  to  appear. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

Unpublished  letter  of  Louis  XV. —  Madame  du  Barry's  cousin,  M. 
de  Maupeou  —  The  comtesse  du  Barry  saves  the  life  of  a  young 
girl  seduced  by  the  arts  of  the  cure  of  her  village  —  She  obtains 
pardon  of  the  comte  and  comtesse  de  Louerne  —  The  king  presents 
her  with  Lucienne  —  A  second  meeting  with  the  youthful  prophet 
— His  further  predictions  —  He  is  sought  for  —  His  mysterious  letter 
to  the  countess. 

«T  Tow  does  my  sweet  friend  contrive  to  bear  our  tedious  sep- 
aration ?  is  she  happy  and  amused  ?  In  that  case  I  can  only 
say,  she  has  greatly  the  advantage  over  him  who  now  ad- 
dresses her.  No,  my  lovely  countess,  I  am  dragging  on  a  tedious 
and  uninteresting  existence,  spite  of  the  great  and  earnest  endeavors 
of  my  good  cousin  and  host  to  provide  for  my  enjoying  the  gaiety 
by  which  I  am  surrounded;  but,  alas!  amidst  the  many  faces  with 
which  his  mansion  is  thronged,  that  one  which  is  dearest  to  me  is 
wanting,  and  all  becomes  a  blank  in  my  eyes;  and  I  yawn  with  irre- 
pressible weariness  in  the  midst  of  the  glittering  pageants  given 
to  honor  my  arrival ;  and  you  may  rest  assured  that  I  shall  hail  with 
delight  the  termination  of  a  visit,  which  seems  already  to  have 
swelled  the  period  of  our  separation  into  ages.  I  will  not  attempt  to 
conceal  from  you,  that  those  who  have  good  cause  to  envy  your  su- 
preme dominion  over  my  heart,  have  set  every  scheme  in  action  to 
lead  me  even  into  a  temporary  oblivion  of  you,  but  their  attempts 
are  as  vain  as  their  impotent  rivalry,  and  need  cause  no  uneasiness 
to  you,  my  beloved  friend.  I  frequently  smile  at  the  vast  pains  and 
precautions  of  which  my  <  sacred  per  son'*  is  the  object;  and  I  am 
continually  encountering  <-by  chance"*  some  of  those  fair  ladies  who 
would  fain  usurp  your  place,  sometimes  bedecked  with  jewels  rare, 
and  sometimes,  as  Racine  says, 

(<< dans  le  simple  appareil 


D'une  beaute",  qu'on  went  d'arracher  au  sommeil.* 

<(  Madame  de  Grammont,  for  instance,  takes  an  infinity  of  trouble 
respecting  my  choice  of  your  successor,  which  she  is  resolved  shall 
be  either  herself  or  one  of  her  choosing.  I  protest  to  you  that  I  find 
all  these  plots  and  counterplots  very  amusing ;  and  can  only  say,  that 
rny  daughters,  who  are  completely  duped  by  those  practising  them, 

(181) 


1 82  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

must  be  more  completely  deceived  than  I  had  imagined  possible. 
Nor  can  I  quite  deny  that  I  feel  a  half  mischievous  delight  in  re- 
ducing to  despair, 

(<  ( ce  peuple  de  rivales 

Quz  toutes,  disputant,  d'un  si  grand  inttret, 
Des  yeux  d'Assudrus  attendent  leur  arrSt? 

(<  A  ssue'rus  ( which,  of  course,  means  me )  keeps  one  perpetual  reply 
to  all  their  high-sounding  praises  and  eulogiums  of  such  or  such  a 
lady.  (She  is  well  enough,  certainly;  but  the  comtesse  du  Barry  ex- 
cels her  a  hundredfold J :  then  follow  such  shrugs,  such  contortions  of 
countenance,  and  such  vain  efforts  to  repress  the  rage  of  disappointed 
vanity  and  ambition,  that  I  am  nearly  ready  to  die  with  laughter. 

<(  Apropos  of  dying;  I  inquired  the  number  of  deaths  which  took 
place  at  Chantilly  last  week;  only  four,  they  say!  Now  I  think  that 
number  quite  sufficient  for  the  size  of  the  place.  I  walked  as  far  as 
the  village  cemetery,  which  is  large  and  judiciously  placed.  I  must 
tell  you,  that  one  of  my  footmen  has  gone  to  that  last  journey  from 
which  none  return:  he  was  a  tall,  presuming  sort  of  fellow,  remarka- 
ble for  nothing  but  his  impertinence,  and  the  continual  scrapes  he 
was  forever  getting  into  amongst  the  soubrettes.  However,  he  met 
with  his  death  in  some  sudden  brawl.  My  people  sought  to  conceal 
this  piece  of  intelligence  from  me;  but  having  once  heard  of  it,  I 
despatched  Flamarens  to  ascertain  in  what  corner  of  the  cemetery  he 
has  been  interred. 

« The  due  de  Tresmes  talks  much  of  you,  and  boasts  greatly  to  the 
honor  of  your  friendship;  he  has  dubbed  himself  your  ^sapajou*; 
this  is  not  amiss  for  a  peer  of  France,  and  what  is  still  more  grati- 
fying, he  has  assumed  a  title  which,  I  believe,  no  one  in  the  king- 
dom will  attempt  to  dispute  his  incontestable  claim  to  call  his  own. 
Villeroi  is  all  impatience  to  return  to  Versailles.  The  dukes  of 
Richelieu  and  d'Aiguillon,  both  uncle  and  nephew,  recommend  them- 
selves to  your  kind  recollection.  Thus  you  see  you  may  reckon  upon 
a  few  devoted  and  attached  friends,  even  without  him,  whose  hand 
is  busily  tracing  these  lines,  and  he,  I  can  promise  you,  is  inferior  to 
none  in  the  truest  love  and  affection  for  you. 

<(The  ladies  of  whom  I  would  have  you  be  most  on  your  guard 
are  mesdames  de  C.,  de  B.,  de  P.,  de  G.  They  really  throw  them- 
selves in  my  way  till  I  can  call  them  nothing  but  fools  for  their 
pains;  but  I  must  do  them  the  justice  to  say  that  they  are  less  am- 
bitious than  you,  and  so  that  they  could  rob  you  of  your  place  would 
care  very  little  whether  I  could  offer  them  my  heart  with  the  other 
honors  to  which  they  aspire ;  in  fact,  'tis  time  we  were  together  again, 
for  the  people  here  seem  determined  to  profit  by  my  stay  amongst 
them.  My  cousin  entertains  us  magnificently,  and  pleasure  succeeds 
pleasure  in  a  continual  round  of  enchantment:  he  tells  me  he  has 
others  still  more  charming  in  store  against  the  time  when  you  will 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  183 

honor  him  with  your  presence.  Am  I  right  in  promising  that  this 
will  be  ere  very  long  ?  Adieu,  what  a  long  letter  have  I  written  you. 
I  will  now  conclude  by  bestowing  an  imaginary  kiss  on  that  lovely 
face,  which  must  satisfy  me  till  I  have  the  felicity  of  seeing  you 
again. 

<(And  now,  my  dear  friend  and  fairest  countess,  I  will  end  my 
lengthened  epistle  by  praying  God  to  have  you  ever  in  His  holy 
care  and  keeping. » 

The  receipt  of  this  letter  afforded  me  the  liveliest 
pleasure,  and  I  wrote  to  the  king  regularly  every  night 
and  morning.  I  might  here  introduce  a  specimen  of  my 
own  epistolary  style,  but  I  will  not;  for  altho'  the  whim- 
sical and  extravagant  things  my  pen  gave  utterance  to 
were  exactly  to  the  king's  taste,  they  might  surprise  you ; 
but  my  royal  correspondent  loved  the  wild  and  bizarre 
turn  of  my  expressions,  and  I  fulfilled  his  wishes;  per- 
haps it  was  not  the  only  instance  in  which  I  gratified 
his  inclination. 

My  cousin,  the  chancellor  of  France,  had  remained  to 
keep  me  company  instead  of  joining  the  party  at  Chantilly. 
My  cousin ,  say  you,  and  by  what  right  or  title  could  M. 
de  Maupeou  become  such  ?  I  will  tell  you.  First  of  all 
he  only  aspired  to  the  honor  of  relationship,  but  after- 
wards, turning  over  the  archives  of  his  family,  he  found  the 
most  incontestable  proofs  of  his  belonging  to  the  ancient 
families  of  the  du  Barry;  and  full  of  joy,  he  hurried  to 
me,  unrolling  at  my  feet  his  genealogical  tree,  to  the 
great  amusement  of  comte  Jean  and  my  sisters-in-law, 
who,  after  a  long  examination,  declared  that  he  was  justly 
entitled  to  the  appellation  of  first  cousin;  from  that  period 
he  always  addressed  me  cousin,  which  I  flattered  him  by 
returning  whenever  I  was  in  the  humor. 

About  this  period  I  was  the  happy  instrument  in  sav- 
ing from  death  a  young  girl  whose  judges  (as  will  be 
seen)  were  about  to  sentence  her  to  be  hanged  without 
fully  understanding  whether  she  were  innocent  or  guilty. 
This  unfortunate  creature  was  a  young  and  pretty  country 
girl,  whose  worthy  pastor,  the  cure"  de  Liancourt,  had 
availed  himself  of  the  influence  he  possessed,  and  of  the 
advantages  of  his  authority  over  the  poor  creature's  mind, 
to  seduce  her  from  the  paths  of  virtue.  Unfortunately, 


184  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

just  at  the  time  when  she  expected  to  produce  a  living 
witness  of  their  amour,  and  when  she  trusted  to  the  cares 
of  the  cure"  to  procure  for  her  those  comforts  her  unfor- 
tunate situation  required,  the  author  of  her  shame  was 
suddenly  carried  off  by  a  violent  death,  and  the  wretched 
girl,  either  thro*  ignorance  or  the  shame  of  having 
listened  to  the  illicit  passion  of  a  priest,  neglected  to 
make  any  of  those  formal  declarations  required  by  the 
law,  and  gave  birth  to  a  dead  infant.  The  justice  of  the 
village,,  informed  of  her  fault,  caused  her  to  be  arrested, 
and  recorded  against  her  sentence  of  death,  a  decision 
which  was  afterwards  approved  by  parliament. 

The  poor  girl  was  in  this  extremity  when,  happily  for  her, 
M.  de  Mandeville,  a  worthy  man  from  either  Normandy 
or  Picardy,  who  had  served  in  the  black  musketeers,  re- 
solved upon  attempting  the  revocation  of  the  severe 
sentence  which  had  been  passed  upon  her,  by  addressing 
the  king  thro'  my  mediation;  he  accordingly  followed 
me  to  Marly,  where  I  then  was,  and  lost  no  time  in  for- 
warding to  me  the  following  billet:  — 

<(  MADAME, —  Beauty  has  ever  been  found  the  inseparable  com- 
panion of  goodness;  to  yours  I  would  appeal  to  obtain  the  favor  of 
an  immediate  audience.  My  reasons  for  requesting  it  are  not  to 
solicit  either  place  or  pension,  but  to  save  the  life  of  an  erring  crea- 
ture whose  crime  has  been  that  of  ignorance.  I  await  your  reply  with 
the  most  lively  impatience,  and  have  the  honor  to  remain,  etc.,  etc.'* 

This  note  puzzled  me  excessively,  however  I  gave  orders 
for  the  immediate  introduction  of  M.  de  Mandeville, 
whose  appearance  was  even  more  prepossessing  than 
his  note;  he  looked  and  spoke  like  an  honorable  man, 
endowed  with  that  sensibility  so  precious  and  so  rare; 
he  put  into  my  hands  the  petition,  whilst  he  explained 
to  me  the  particulars  relative  to  it,  and  I  instantly 
wrote  to  the  chancellor  the  following  note,  of  which  a 
thousand  copies  were  taken  in  the  course  of  the  day. 
Altho'  it  has  been  many  times  in  print,  I  shall  offer  no 
apologies  for  again  submitting  it  to  your  perusal. 

w  MONSIEUR  LE  CHANCELLOR, — I  do  not  profess  to  understand  your 
laws,  but  they  seem  to  me  as  unjust  as  barbarous.  They  are  con- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  185 

trary  to  both  reason  and  humanity,  if  they  put  to  death  an  un- 
fortunate female  for  giving  birth  to  a  still-born  child  without  having 
previously  disclosed  her  situation  to  any  one;  and  yet,  according  to 
the  memorial  annexed  to  this,  the  petitioner  is  so  circumstanced. 
Here  is  an  unhappy  girl  about  to  pay  with  the  forfeit  of  her  life  for 
her  ignorance  of  such  a  law,  or  because  the  modesty  and  even  shame 
attendant  upon  her  disgraced  condition  prevented  her  conforming  to 
it.  I  appeal  to  your  sense  of  justice;  the  wretched  girl,  concerning 
whom  I  write,  is  a  fit  object  for  the  exercise  of  your  lenity,  and  I 
venture  to  assure  myself  that  you  will  at  least  effect  the  commutation 
of  her  punishment  Your  own  kind  feelings  will  dictate  all  I  would 
ask  further  for  her. 

«I  am,  etc.,  etc.® 

I  felt  very  certain  that,  from  the  manner  in  which  I 
had  expressed  myself,  the  consent  of  M.  de  Maupeou 
was  quite  certain;  I  therefore  said  to  my  visitor,  the 
handsome  musketeer, 

(<And  now,  sir,  the  noble  work  of  charity,  in  which 
you  have  associated  me  must  be  completed:  go  yourself 
and  see  the  chancellor,  tell  him  you  come  from  me, 
and  do  not  quit  him  till  you  obtain  the  reply  I  have  so- 
licited. » 

M.  de  Mandeville  loaded  me  with  thanks  and  praises 
which  I  did  not  really  merit,  because  in  the  present  in- 
stance I  acted  as  much  from  the  wish  to  gratify  my 
own  feelings  as  his.  My  name  and  my  letter  were  talis- 
mans before  which  all  doors  flew  open,  and  he  reached, 
without  difficulty,  the  presence  of  the  chief  adminis- 
trator of  justice,  who,  having  read  the  memorial  and 
the  note  I  had  affixed  to  it,  said,  "That  is  sufficient, 
sir;  have  the  goodness  to  assure  madame  la  comtesse 
du  Barry,  my  cousin,  that  the  reprieve  she  desires  is 
already  granted;  and  as  my  fair  relation  appears  to 
fear  trusting  implicitly  to  my  personal  friendship  and 
humanity,  I  will  set  her  mind  at  rest  by  putting  you  in 
possession  of  the  legal  forms  requisite  for  the  prisoner. w 

He  immediately  issued  the  necessary  orders  for  suspend- 
ing the  execution  of  the  sentence,  which  M.  de  Mande- 
ville lost  no  time  in  communicating  to  the  poor  girl,  who, 
a  very  few  days  afterwards,  received  a  full  pardon,  and 
was  thus,  in  a  manner,  snatched  from  an  unmerited  and 


i86  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

ignominious  death.  The  musketeer  requested  permission 
to  present  my  prottgte  to  my  notice.  She  really  was  a 
very  pretty  girl,  her  feelings  overpowered  her,  and  she 
fainted  in  her  attempt  to  throw  herself  at  my  feet;  I 
soon  revived  her  by  the  aid  of  those  restoratives  which 
my  staring  people  stupidly  did  not  try  to  offer,  and 
then  to  send  her  away  perfectly  happy  and  cheerful,  I 
slipped  into  the  pocket  of  her  apron  a  rouleau  of  fifty 
louis  which  the  king  had  given  me  for  her  use.  And  here 
I  must  remark,  that  this  prince,  avaricious  as  he  natu- 
rally was,  was  yet  always  ready  to  perform  a  good  action, 
and,  indeed,  in  this  respect,  he  possessed  many  excellent 
qualities  to  which  no  one  has  ever  yet  done  justice. 

When  I  next  saw  the  chancellor  — <(  Do  you  know,  my 
fair  cousin,8  said  he,  "that  if  I  wished  to  set  you  and 
the  parliament  quarreling  together  I  need  only  just 
whisper  in  what  manner  you  treat  our  laws  ?  * 

"Your  laws,8  exclaimed  I,  "are  barbarous  edicts,  made 
rather  for  tigers  than  for  men.  Your  punishments  are 
atrocious,  nor  do  I  see  their  application  to  correct  a 
single  malefactor;  particularly  in  the  case  of  this  young 
girl  it  is  abominable,  and  if  the  king  would  listen  to  me 
such  savage  edicts  should  not  long  remain  unre pealed.  * 

"That  may  do  very  well,8  replied  M.  de  Maupeou,  "some 
time  hence,  but  not  just  now;  ere  our  penal  code  can  be 
revised  we  must  have  magistrates  more  supple  than  those 
who  now  dispute  our  slightest  innovation ;  and  if,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  we  can  manage  to  make  a  clear  house  of 
them,  why  we  may  confidently  anticipate  the  noblest  re- 
sults.8 

By  these  and  similar  insinuations  the  chancellor  bespoke 
that  aid  and  assistance  which  I  afterwards  so  largely  ren- 
dered him  when  he  commenced  the  ruin  of  parliaments. 

Upon  another  occasion  my  credit  and  influence  were 
employed  with  equal  success.  The  objects  of  my  present 
exertions  were  the  comte  and  comtesse  de  Louerne.  Both 
husband  and  wife  were  deeply  loaded  with  debts,  a  thing 
common  enough  with  the  nobility  of  the  time ;  these  debts 
they  never  paid,  another  thing  by  no  means  unusual; 
their  creditors,  whose  flinty  hearts  were  but  little  moved 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  187 

by  the  considerations  of  their  rank  and  high  blood,  sent 
officers  to  enforce  payment,  when  the  Louernes  opposed 
them  with  positive  force  and  violence,  and  the  laws,  thus 
outraged,  condemned  them  to  suffer  death.  In  vain  did 
persons  of  the  highest  rank  in  the  kingdom  intercede  in 
their  behalf,  imploring  of  the  chancellor  to  interpose 
with  the  king ;  altho'  deaf  to  every  other  entreaty  he  in- 
stantly granted  a  reprieve  at  my  solicitation,  declaring  I 
was  the  only  person  who  could  have  effected  so  much  in 
behalf  of  the  distressed  culprits,  as  well  as  being  the 
only  source  thro'  which  the  king's  mercy  could  be  ob- 
tained. 

Immediately  upon  this  notification,  I  was  waited  upon 
by  the  comtesse  de  Moyau,  their  daughter,  and  the  baronne 
d'Heldorf,  their  daughter-in-law;  both  these,  ladies  came 
to  me  in  the  deepest  sorrow,  and  I  mingled  my  sighs  and 
tears  with  those  they  so  plentifully  shed;  but  this  was 
rendering  poor  service,  and  if  I  desired  to  aid  their  cause 
it  was  requisite  I  should  speak  to  the  king,  who  was  little 
disposed  to  show  any  indulgence  in  such  .cases,  and  was 
never  known  to  pass  over  any  attempts  on  the  part  of 
the  nobility  to  resist  the  laws;  he  looked  with  horror  on 
every  prospect  of  the  return  of  those  times  which  he 
hoped  and  believed  were  passed  and  gone  never  to  return. 
I  well  knew  his  sentiments  on  the  subject,  and  yet,  trust- 
ing to  my  great  influence  over  his  mind,  I  did  not  despair 
of  success ;  besides  Chon,  my  sister-in-law,  was  constantly 
reminding  me  that  people  of  a  certain  rank  should  sup- 
port one  another,  and  that  now  was  the  time  or  never. 
I  therefore  resolved  upon  befriending  the  daughters  of 
comte  de  Louerne  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  and  for 
that  purpose  I  placed  them  both  in  a  corner  of  the  draw- 
ing-room so  as  to  catch  the  king's  eye  as  he  entered;  he 
observed  them,  and  inquired  who  those  two  ladies  were. 
"Sire,"  replied  I,  "they  are  the  heart-broken  daughters 
of  the  comte  and  comtesse  de  Louerne,  who  implore  the 
clemency  of  your  majesty  to  save  the  lives  of  the  authors 
of  their  being." 

(<  Ah !  "  returned  he,  (<  madame,  you  know  I  can  do  noth- 
ing against  the  law  which  they  have  offended." 


1 88  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

At  these  cruel  words  the  two  young  ladies  threw  them- 
selves at  his  feet,  exclaiming,  <(  Pardon,  pardon,  sire ;  in 
the  name  of  heaven  and  your  illustrious  ancestors.8 

<(  Rise,  ladies, *  said  the  king ;  <(  I  would  willingly  serve 
you,  but  I  have  not  the  power.* 

*  No,  sire,  *  cried  I,  (<  you  must  not,  you  cannot  refuse 
our  united  prayers;  and  I  here  vow  to  remain  kneeling 
at  your  feet  till  your  lips  shall  pronounce  the  word  which 
shall  restore  life  and  happiness  to  so  many  afflicted  hearts. * 

(<  Madame,*  said  the  king,  altho*  in  a  tone  less  firm, 
*  you  force  me  to  do  what  my  principles  condemn ;  but 
since  it  must  be  so,  I  yield;  and  only  rejoice  that  the 
first  personal  favor  you  request  of  me  is  to  perform  an 
act  of  beneficence.  Ladies,*  added  he,  turning  towards 
the  comtesse  de  Moyau  and  her  sister-in-  law,  (<  you  owe 
the  lives  of  your  parents  to  the  generous  mediation 
of  the  comtesse  du  Barry.* 

The  joy  of  the  Louernes  was  only  equalled  by  the  base 
calumny  of  my  enemies,  who  accused  me  of  having  pre- 
pared this  scene,  which  was  got  up  by  the  king  and  my- 
self to  produce  effect  and  excite  popularity.  Could  such 
disgusting  falsehoods  have  entered  the  minds  of  any  but 
the  most  depraved  ?  Yet  those  who  continually  watched 
and  misrepresented  my  least  action  appeared  anxious  to 
deprive  me  of  even  the  taste  for,  as  well  as  the  power 
of,  doing  good.  This  took  place  at  Choisy,  which  we  very 
shortly  after  quitted  for  Compiegne,  where  I  passed  my 
time  very  agreeably.  The  king  would  not  surfer  either 
the  duchesse  de  Grammont  or  the  comtesses  d'Egmont  and 
de  Brienne  to  accompany  us  upon  this  excursion.  It  has 
likewise  been  asserted,  that  neither  the  duchesse  de  Gram- 
mont nor  the  princesse  de  Beauvau  was  present  during 
the  king's  first  visit  to  Chantilly:  that  is  not  correct;  it 
was  at  the  second  that  they  were  forbidden  by  Louis  to 
join  the  party.  Those  who  fabricated  such  accounts,  in 
all  probability  derived  their  information  from  either  the 
stable  or  the  kitchen,  which  was  all  they  knew  of  the 
court  of  Louis  XV. 

During  my  abode  at  Compiegne  I  dined  several  times 
at  the  house  of  my  brother-in-law,  Cleon  du  Barry,  then 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  189 

a  captain  in  the  regiment  de  Beauce,  who  was,  with  a 
detachment,  quartered  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  castle; 
and  he,  with  the  rest  of  his  brother  officers,  vied  in  en- 
deavors to  please  and  amuse  me.  They  gave  fetes  in 
my  honor,  were  perpetually  devising  fresh  schemes  to 
render  the  place  agreeable  to  me;  and  in  that  they  per- 
fectly succeeded,  for  I  quitted  Compiegne  with  no  other 
regret  than  that  my  stay  there  was  at  an  end. 

The  king  appeared  each  day  more  and  more  solicitous 
to  render  me  happy,  and  even  anticipated  any  wishes  I 
might  form.  Amongst  other  marks  of  his  favor,  he  be- 
stowed upon  me  the  splendid  pavilion  de  Lucienne,  sold 
by  the  due  de  Penthievre  after  the  death  of  his  son,  the 
prince  de  Lamballe.  You  know  this  charming  spot,  which 
both  nature  and  art  have  so  liberally  contributed  to  adorn : 
I  have  converted  it  into  the  most  perfect  and  delightful 
habitation  in  which  a  mortal  could  desire  to  end  her  days. 
Nevertheless,  this  hope  of  passing  my  life  tranquilly  and 
happily  within  its  sheltering  bosom  will  prove  but  falla- 
cious, if  I  may  credit  a  prediction  which  has  been  verified 
already  in  part.  You  doubtlessly  remember  the  young 
man  who  so  obstinately  pursued  me  to  announce  the  high 
destiny  to  which  I  should  attain,  ere  I  had  for  one  mo- 
ment contemplated  such  an  elevation.  Well!  you  will 
scarcely  credit  me  when  I  declare,  that  all  recollection  of 
him  had  entirely  escaped  me;  but,  in  truth,  the  constant 
vortex  of  a  court  life  leaves  no  time  for  the  recollection 
of  the  past,  and  fills  our  minds  with  no  other  ideas  but 
to  provide  for  the  present,  and  occasionally  to  glance  at 
the  future. 

However,  I  thought  no  more  of  my  young  prophet, 
when  one  Sunday,  after  my  return  to  Versailles  from 
Compiegne,  I  attended  mass  at  the  castle;  all  at  once 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of  my  mysterious  acquaintance,  lean- 
ing his  back  against  the  wall  behind  the  altar.  He  was 
examining  my  countenance  with  a  deep  and  fixed  atten- 
tion. You  may  picture  to  yourself  my  astonishment 
and  surprise  at  recognising  in  this  place  the  person  who 
had  so  long  ago  foretold  my  brilliant  destiny.  The  color 
rushed  to  my  cheeks,  and  he  could  distinctly  observe 


ipo  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

how  much  I  was  agitated  by  his  presence,  and  his  beau- 
tiful countenance  was  lit  up  with  a  pleasant  smile ;  after 
which  he  gracefully  waved  his  hand  round  his  head  as 
tho'  he  would  say,  (<Are  you  not  queen  of  France  ?  w  This 
gesture  excited  my  astonishment  still  further;  however, 
I  returned  his  mute  inquiry  by  a  slight  inclination  of 
the  head,  intended  to  say,  <(  You  are  right. B  In  a  moment 
a  sort  of  cloud  seemed  to  cover  my  eyes.  So  soon  as  I 
could  recover  from  the  sudden  dimness  which  obscured 
my  vision,  I  endeavored  to  bend  my  looks  in  an  opposite 
direction;  for  so  greatly  was  I  the  point  of  general  ob- 
servation, that  I  feared  to  awaken  suspicion  by  an  in- 
discreet attention  to  one  particular  person  or  place:  and 
when  after  some  little  time  had  elapsed,  and  I  ventured 
to  turn  my  eyes  again  to  the  spot  where  the  young  man 
had  been  standing,  he  had  disappeared. 

I  was  unable  to  recover  my  astonishment  at  the  whole 
affair,  and  the  suddenness  of  his  departure  inspired  me 
with  a  lively  desire  to  know  more  of  him,  whether  he 
were  man  or  demon.  I  mentioned  it  to  Chon  the  same 
day,  who,  having  listened  to  me  with  extreme  attention, 
(<  Upon  my  word,  »  said  she,  (<  this  is  a  most  marvellous 
event  in  your  history.  Why  do  you  not  mention  the  fact 
to  M.  de  Sartines  ? }> 

(<  Because  it  appears  to  me  folly  to  disturb  or  annoy  a 
person  who  has  given  me  no  offence;  and  were  I  to  put 
him  into  the  hands  of  the  police,  I  might  possibly  find 
reason  to  repent  having  acted  so.  On  the  other  hand,  I 
would  give  any  sum  of  money  for  one  more  interview 
with  this  wonderful  person." 

There  the  conversation  ended;  but  my  sister-in-law,  by 
an  unpardonable  curiosity  she  ought  not  to  have  indulged 
in,  wrote,  unknown  to  me,  to  the  lieutenant  of  the  police, 
entreating  of  him  to  use  the  most  active  measures  to 
trace  out  the  object  of  my  curiosity.  M.  de  Sartines  de- 
lighted at  having  an  opportunity  of  proving  to  me  and 
mine  his  skill  and  zeal,  turned  all  his  bloodhounds  loose 
upon  the  track  of  this  unfortunate  being.  During  these 
proceedings  I  received  a  letter,  sealed  with  five  black 
seals,  bearing  the  impress  of  a  death's  head.  I  thought 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  191 

at  first  that  it  was  to  notify  the  decease  of  some  friend, 
and  I  looked  upon  the  style  as  gloomy  as  it  was  strange ; 
but,  upon  opening  it,  I  found  it  to  contain  the  follow- 
ing words :  — 

«  MADAME  LA  COMTESSE, —  I  am  perfectly  aware  that  the  strict  pur- 
suit made  after  me  in  your  name  is  without  your  knowledge  or 
sanction :  those  sent  in  search  of  me  have  spared  no  pains  nor  trouble 
to  ascertain  my  name  and  abode.  My  abode!  Let  all  as  they  value 
themselves  avoid  meeting  me  there;  for,  when  they  enter  it,  it  will 
be  never  to  quit  it  more.  Who  am  I  ?  That  can  only  be  known 
when  this  life  has  been  exchanged  for  another.  I  charge  you,  ma- 
dame,  to  command  the  lieutenant,  M.  de  Sartmes.  to  cease  his  re- 
searches after  me ;  they  would  be  fruitless,  and  might  only  compromise 
your  safety.  Remember,  I  predicted  your  good  fortune;  was  I  not 
correct  in  it  ?  I  have  also  foretold  reverses ;  I  am  equally  correct  in 
them  also.  You  will  see  me  twice  more;  and  should  I  unfortunately 
cross  your  path  a  third  time,  prepare  to  bid  adieu  to  the  light  of 
heaven  and  the  pleasures  of  this  world.® 

It  is  impossible  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  excessive 
terror  with  which  I  was  filled  upon  the  perusal  of  this 
billet.  I  summoned  my  sister-in-law,  and  complained  of 
the  harshness  of  conduct  thus  adopted  against  my  pleas- 
ure. Chon  was  equally  alarmed,  and  confessed  to  me 
what  she  had  done  in  asking  the  aid  of  M.  de  Sartines; 
at  the  same  time  that  she  was  the  first  to  declare  that 
it  was  requisite  to  put  an  end  to  all  further  search,  which, 
in  one  shape  or  other,  might  bring  on  the  most  fatal 
consequences.  I  therefore  wrote  myself  to  M.  de  Sartines, 
thanking  him  for  his  exertions;  but  saying,  that  my  sister- 
in-law  and  myself  had  learned  from  the  lips  of  the  myste- 
rious stranger  all  we  were  desirous  of  knowing,  and  that 
any  future  researches  being  unpleasant  to  him  would  be 
equally  disagreeable  to  me.  M.  de  Sartines  obeyed  my 
request;  and  from  that  period  till  the  death  of  the  king 
I  heard  no  more  of  this  singular  personage. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

Extraordinary  anecdote  of  Louis  XIV.  and  madame  de  Maintenon  — 
The  comtesse  du  Barry  at  Chantilly  —  Opinion  of  the  king  and  the 
comte  de  la  Marche  respecting  the  <(Iron  Mask8  —  Madame  du 
Barry  visits  madame  de  Lagarde. 

MY  ACQUAINTANCE  with  the  singular  being  I  was 
speaking  of  in  the  last  chapter  did  not  end  here, 
as  you  will  find  in  the  sequel.  I  will  now  give 
you  an  account  of  an  equally  strange  affair,  in  nearly 
the  same  words  as  Louis  XV.  himself  related  it  to  me. 
Altho'  strongly  recommended  by  my  sister-in-law  and 
M.  de  Sartines  to  conceal  the  whole  story  of  my  mys- 
terious friend  from  the  king,  yet,  unaccustomed  to  the 
prudential  observation  of  court  reserve,  I,  one  fine  even- 
ing, in  order  to  fill  up  a  long  blank  in  the  conversation, 
related  the  story  from  beginning  to  end.  His  majesty 
listened  with  attention  until  I  had  concluded. 

<(  This  is  indeed, w  said  he,  <(  a  most  singular  history ; 
and  I  think  you  have  acted  very  wisely  in  putting  an 
end  to  all  such  interference  on  the  part  of  the  police ;  for 
in  such  cases  you  frequently  run  great  risks  to  procure 
a  trifling  gratification.  We  have  seen  something  of  the 
same  sort  in  our  family.* 

This  discourse  excited  my  curiosity;  and  I  entreated  of 
him  to  explain  himself  more  fully.  <(  I  ought  not  to  do 
so, "  replied  he ;  (<  such  transactions  should  be  kept  for  ever 
concealed;  but  as  more  than  half  a  century  has  elapsed 
since  the  event  I  allude  to  took  place,  I  think  I  may  ven- 
ture to  break  the  silence  I  have  religiously  observed  until 
now.  You  are  the  only  person  I  have  ever  mentioned  it 
to,  and  I  must  bind  you  to  the  strictest  secrecy. }) 

This  I   faithfully  promised;  and  so  long  as  Louis  XV. 
lived  I  kept  my  word. 
(192) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  193 

(<  At  the  conclusion  of  the  last  century,  during  the  month 
of  September, w  resumed  the  king,  ((  it  happened  that 
Louis  XIV.,  and  madame  de  Maintenon  formed  the  wish 
of  consulting  together  some  learned  astrologer,  in  order 
to  ascertain  whether  the  coming  age  would  be  productive 
of  good  or  ill  to  them.  As  neither  of  them  knew  to  whom 
to  apply,  in  order  to  attain  their  object,  madame  de  Main- 
tenon  was  compelled  to  confide  her  wishes  to  her  friend, 
madame  de  Montchevreuil,  who  readily  engaged  to  find 
for  her  the  person  she  required;  for,  spite  of  the  severity 
with  which  the  law  visited  such  practices,  there  was  no 
scarcity  of  dealers  in  augury,  who  promised  good  or  bad 
fortune  accordingly  as  they  were  paid  for  it. 

<(  Whilst  this  lady  was  making  diligent  search  after 
one  perfectly  competent  to  satisfy  madame  de  Maintenon, 
this  latter,  in  conjunction  with  the  king,  despite  the 
superiority  of  their  minds,  was  greatly  disturbed  at  the 
probable  consequences  of  the  step  they  meditated.  Their 
desire  to  penetrate  into  futurity  appeared  to  them  as 
ridiculous  as  it  was  criminal,  but  their  weaker  feelings 
triumphed;  and  the  result  of  their  deliberations  was, 
that  far  from  relinquishing  their  intention  of  searching 
the  book  of  fate,  they  should  lose  neither  pains  nor  trouble 
to  attain  their  object;  and  to  encourage  each  other, 
they  reckoned  upon  their  fingers  the  names  of  every  per- 
son of  their  acquaintance,  or  even  belonging  to  the  court, 
who  had  derived  profit  and  advantage  from  the  predic- 
tions of  fortune-tellers. 

<(  The  minds  of  all  at  this  period  were  still  imbued 
with  those  superstitious  feelings,  of  which  many  of  the 
most  illustrious  persons  had  given  ample  proof  even  in 
the  preceding  reign.  We  have  become  either  more 
wicked  or  more  sceptical,  whichever  you  please  to  term 
it;  but  this  is  certain,  that  many  of  the  things  predicted 
were  accomplished  with  an  exact  punctuality,  which 
might  serve  to  overthrow  the  finest  arguments  of  the 
greatest  philosophers,  and  which  has  indeed  destroyed 
many  ingenious  theories.  Doubtless  the  hidden  laws  of 
nature  have  reference  to  other  beings  than  ourselves; 
and,  beyond  dispute,  may  be  said  to  govern  the  creatures 


194  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VATJBERNIER 

of  an  unknown  world  as  well  as  exercising  control  over 
poor  mortals  like  us."  After  this  short  digression,  of 
which  I  give  you  the  precise  wording,  the  king  continued 
as  follows: 

<(On  the  following  day  madame  de  Montchevreuil  paid 
a  visit  to  madame  de  Maintenon,  in  which  she  declared, 
that  upon  mature  reflection,  she  could  not  proceed  with 
the  commission  she  had  undertaken:  that  it  was  tempt- 
ing Providence,  and  had  better  be  abandoned.  This 
remonstrance  had  no  effect  upon  madame  de  Maintenon, 
who  shielded  herself  from  any  necessity  of  retracting, 
by  repeating  to  herself,  that  she  had  pledged  herself 
to  join  Louis  XIV.  in  the  undertaking,  and  it  would  never 
do  for  her  to  forfeit  her  character  for  firmness  and  good 
sense  by  now  appearing  trifling  and  capricious.  How- 
ever, she  feigned  a  seeming  compliance  with  the  advice 
of  madame  de  Montchevreuil,  whilst,  in  reality,  her  mind 
was  resolved  upon  executing  her  project. 

<(  There  was  in  her  household  a  female  who  was  not 
immediately  one  of  her  establishment,  altho'  generally 
ranking  as  such;  one  of  those  active,  stirring  persons, 
who  thrust  themselves  into  a  noble  family  under  the 
equivocal  title  of  half  servant,  half  lady.  This  one  had 
charge  of  all  the  necessary  purchases  of  linen,  engaged 
the  servants,  kept  watch  over  their  conduct,  procured 
for  the  marchioness  whatever  particulars  she  might  re- 
quire upon  any  subject;  and  took  upon  herself,  in  a 
word,  any  piece  of  service  by  which  she  could  more  firmly 
plant  herself  in  the  family  of  her  employers.  She  re- 
ceived no  fixed  wages,  but  their  absence  was  abundantly 
compensated  in  the  numerous  rich  presents  that  were  con- 
tinually made  her.  Her  sleeping  apartment  was  always 
immediately  adjoining  that  of  madame  de  Maintenon 
in  the  castle.  A  person  of  this  description  (as  may  be 
readily  supposed)  knew  the  world  too  well  to  find  any 
difficulty  in  procuring  a  mere  fortune-teller;  and  as  her 
discretion  might  be  confidently  relied  on,  it  was  re- 
solved by  her  mistress  to  intrust  her  with  the  design. 

"Two  days  after,  she  had  removed  all  difficulties  by 
discovering  an  Italian  priest,  famed  as  the  most  skilful 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  195 

necromancer  of  his  day,  one  who  undertook  to  reveal  the 
decrees  of  fate  to  all  those  who  should  consult  him,  as 
clearly  and  readily  as  tho'  its  leaves  lay  open  as  a  book 
before  his  eyes.  But  this  gifted  person  lived  in  the  utmost 
dread  of  attracting  the  notice  of  parliament,  and  exercised 
his  art  only  under  the  strictest  assurances  of  secrecy,  in 
the  most  retired  and  secluded  manner,  with  every  pre- 
caution to  prevent  the  possibility  of  a  surprise. 

"These  conditions  were  too  gratifying  to  madame  de 
Maintenon  to  cause  much  delay  in  subscribing  to  them; 
and  it  was  finally  arranged,  that  the  prophet  and  his 
new  applicants  should  meet  at  a  house  in  Sevres  belong- 
ing to  the  royal  family,  then  in  the  occupation  of  madame 
Cerfol  (the  lady  of  whom  mention  has  been  already  made). 
The  marchioness  was  to  repair  thither  at  one  o'clock  in 
the  morning  with  a  single  friend.  To  have  taken  such  a 
measure  in  open  daylight  would  have  been  to  proclaim  their 
secret  to  all  Paris.  One  person  besides  madame  de  Cerfol 
was  necessarily  admitted  into  their  confidence,  and  that 
was  the  due  de  Noailles,  who  was  charged,  by  the  king's 
express  orders,  to  take  every  possible  precaution  to  ensure 
their  safety,  as  far  as  it  could  be  done  without  attracting 
public  attention  to  so  extraordinary  an  affair. 

(<  At  the  hour  appointed  madame  de  Maintenon  and 
the  due  de  Noailles  ascended  a  carriage  which  awaited 
them  at  one  of  the  park  gates,  and  soon  conveyed  them 
to  Sevres,  whither  the  Italian  priest  had  gone  the  pre- 
ceding night.  This  wretched  man  had  celebrated  alone 
the  sacrifice  of  the  mass,  and  had  consecrated  several 
wafers. 

<(  Everything  confirmed  the  opinion,  that  the  conjuror, 
up  to  the  present  moment,  merely  supposed  himself  sent 
for  to  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  some  country  nobleman  and 
his  lady,  who  were  both  anxious  and  eager  to  read  their 
future  fortune  thro'  his  assistance.  I  can  only  suppose, 
if  he  had  been  in  ignorance  of  the  real  rank  of  those  who 
addressed  him,  the  sight  of  the  king  must  have  quickly 
undeceived  him,  as  the  conclusion  of  the  story  proves  he 
well  knew  to  whom  he  spoke  when  he  delivered  his  pre- 
diction. However  this  may  have  been,  he  was  no  sooner 


196  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

alone  with  the  marchioness,  than  he  commenced  the  nec- 
essary preparations  for  the  performance  of  his  sorceries 
and  enchantments;  he  burned  perfumes,  offered  prayers, 
and  with  loud  invocations  adjured  the  powers  of  hell  to 
answer  him;  and  in  the  midst  of  a  wild  and  agitating 
sound  which  pervaded  the  whole  building,  during  the 
heavy  swell  of  noises  too  dreadful  to  have  arisen  from 
mortal  sources,  and  whilst  a  thousand  visions  were  flitting 
to  and  fro,  he  drew  the  horoscope  of  the  king  and  madame 
de  Maintenon.  He  promised  Louis  XIV.  that  he  should 
succeed  in  all  his  undertakings;  and  that,  on  the  very  day 
on  which  he  spoke  the  words  (the  2nd  of  October)  one 
of  his  children  had  been  called  to  the  inheritance  of  an 
immense  fortune.  Then  giving  him  a  small  packet, 
wrapped  in  new  parchment,  '  The  day  in  which  you  form 
the  fatal  resolution  of  acquainting  yourself  with  the  con- 
tents of  this  packet,*  said  he,  'will  be  the  last  of  your 
prosperity;  but  if  you  desire  to  carry  your  good  fortune 
to  the  highest  pitch,  be  careful  upon  every  great  festival, 
that  is  to  say,  Easter,  Whit- Sunday,  the  Assumption,  and 
Christmas,  to  plunge  a  pin  in  this  talisman,  so  that  the 
point  shall  pass  directly  thro'  it;  observe  to  do  this,  and 
you  will  live  perfectly  happy.  * 

<(  The  king  accepted  this  fatal  present,  and  swore 
upon  the  Gospel  never  to  open  the  packet;  he  richly 
rewarded  the  priest,  who  from  that  period  lived  in  a 
retreat  so  well  concealed  as  to  evade  the  most  dili- 
gent researches  of  those  who  sought  to  discover  it. 

"  Some  time  after  news  was  received,  that  on  the  very 
2nd  of  October,  1700,  named  by  the  priest,  Charles  II., 
king  of  Spain,  had  appointed  in  his  will  Philip  of  France, 
son  of  the  dauphin,  his  successor  and  heir,  an  inheritance 
truly  immense,  as  the  astrologer  had  foretold.  You  may 
well  think  how  highly  this  realization  of  the  prediction 
inspired  the  king  with  confidence  as  to  the  fulfilment  of 
the  remainder:  and,  on  his  part,  he  never  failed  upon  any 
saint's  day  or  other  solemn  festival  to  stick  the  mysterious 
pin  in  the  talisman  upon  which  so  much  depended. 

(<  Nevertheless,  spite  of  all  these  observances,  his  un- 
dertakings did  not  invariably  succeed,  which  astonished 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  197 

him  greatly;  when  one  day  the  great  Bossuet,  happen- 
ing to  be  at  madame  de  Maintenon's,  the  conversation 
turned  upon  magic  and  sorcery,  necromancy  and  their  hor- 
rible profanations;  and  he  expressed  himself  with  so  much 
force  and  energy,  that  the  king  and  madame  de  Main- 
tenon  looked  at  each  other  without  knowing  what  to  say, 
and  began,  for  the  first  time,  to  feel  compunction  for 
what  they  had  done,  and  to  regret  their  imprudence. 
They  talked  of  it  much  together,  and  at  length  resolved 
to  reveal  their  crime  to  their  confessors.  The  punishment 
imposed  on  the  king  by  his  spiritual  adviser  was,  that 
he  should  evince  his  contempt  for  the  talismanic  proper- 
ties of  the  parchment  packet,  by  immediately  opening  it. 

<(  Louis  XIV.  did  not  by  any  means  admire  this  method 
of  expiating  his  fault;  and  a  sort  of  involuntary  dread 
took  possession  of  him,  as,  in  obedience  to  the  command 
of  his  confessor,  he  went  to  procure  the  magic  parcel, 
which  he  tore  open  in  the  presence  of  madame  de  Main- 
tenon  and  father  la  Chaise.  The  packet  contained  nothing 
but  a  consecrated  wafer,  pierced  thro'  with  as  many  pins 
as  there  had  been  saints'  days  since  the  king  had  received 
it.  At  the  sight  of  this  horrible  sacrilege  my  grandfather 
was  filled  with  deep  remorse  and  consternation,  from  which 
it  was  a  long  time  ere  he  recovered ;  and  it  was  not  until 
he  had  undergone  many  severe  penances,  fastings,  and 
caused  numberless  masses  to  be  said,  that  he  felt  him- 
self at  all  relieved  from  the  weight  of  his  crime. 

<(  But  all  this  was  only  the  commencement  of  the  divine 
vengeance:  and  those  in  the  secret  of  this  unfortunate 
affair  remarked,  that  this  great  monarch  lost  from  that 
time  as  many  male  descendants  in  a  direct  line  as  he 
had  stuck  pins  into  the  holy  wafer.* 

Louis  XV.  here  terminated  his  singular  history,  which 
struck  my  mind  with  a  sort  of  religious  terror.  I  strove 
by  every  possible  effort  to  dissimulate,  concealing  from  the 
king  the  emotions  to  which  his  narration  had  given  rise. 
I  contented  myself  with  observing,  "that  after  hearing 
his  marvelous  recital,  I  should  only  be  more  confirmed 
in  my  determination  to  leave  my  young  prophet  to  the 
tranquillity  he  desired. w 


198  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

(<It  will  be  far  best  so,"  added  Louis;  <(  I  know  so  many 
fatal  results  which  have  followed  any  indiscreet  curiosity, 
that  I  am  persuaded  you  had  much  better  leave  such 
mysterious  affairs  to  work  their  own  solution.* 

I  promised  to  follow  his  advice,  and  we  then  conversed 
upon  other  subjects.  Since  then  this  anecdote  has  re- 
curred to  my  memory;  and  without  wishing  to  impeach 
the  sincerity  of  Louis  XV. ,  I  have  asked  myself,  whether, 
by  the  opportune  relation  of  this  adventure,  probably 
invented  by  himself,  he  did  not  seek  to  destroy  the  con- 
fidence I  appeared  to  entertain  in  the  predictions  of  my 
prophet.  I  say  invented,  because  the  king  had  a  peculiar 
readiness  and  facility  in  composing  these  sort  of  won- 
derful tales,  carefully  noting  down  every  circumstance 
which  fell  under  his  knowledge  deviating  from  the  or- 
dinary course  of  things.  He  had  a  large  collection  of 
these  legends,  which  he  delighted  in  narrating;  and  this 
he  did  with  an  ease  and  grace  of  manner  I  have  never 
seen  equalled. 

About  this  period  the  prince  de  Conde,  whose  gallantry 
never  failed,  entreated  the  king  to  pay  a  second  visit 
to  Chantilly:  and  it  was  upon  this  occasion  that  Louis 
erased  from  the  list  of  court  ladies  all  those  whose  presence 
would  be  disagreeable  to  me  during  our  stay  at  Chan- 
tilly. One  scene  of  pleasure  followed  another,  and  one 
fete  succeeded  another.  I  accompanied  his  majesty  with- 
out ever  quitting  him;  and  if  hitherto  there  had  existed 
any  doubts  as  to  the  sincerity  of  the  king's  attachment, 
the  most  sceptical  person  would  now  have  been  convinced 
of  the  fact.  Louis  XV.  was  never  from  my  side,  and 
appeared  solely  occupied  in  gratifying  my  slightest  wish ; 
the  princes  of  the  court  carefully  followed  his  example; 
and  such  a  life  as  I  then  led  was  abundant  compensation 
for  all  the  pains  and  anxieties  I  had  endured  from  the 
malice  and  jealousy  of  certain  females,  as  well  as  the 
sarcastic  bitterness  of  men,  who  feared  lest  my  influence 
should  destroy  theirs. 

I  may,  with  truth,  affirm  that  I  received  the  honors 
and  attention  of  a  queen;  verses,  plays,  all  written  to 
convey  some  praise  or  compliment  to  me;  and  the  king 


« PERMIT  ME,    MADAME   LA    COMTESSE*    SAID 
THE   PAPAL   NUNZIO 


By  courtesy  of  Mr.  David  Belasco  and  Mrs.  Leslie 
Carter.  This  scene  is  from  David  Belasco's  play, 
Du  Barry,  played  at  Belasco's  Theatre,  New  York, 
•with  Mrs.  Leslie  Carter  as  La  Du  Barry. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  199 

testified  the  lively  gratification  it  afforded  him  to  see 
me  thus  an  object  of  general  solicitude,  as  well  as  of  the 
most  flattering  distinction.  His  conduct  towards  the 
prince  de  Conde*  became  more  gracious  than  it  had  ever 
been  observed  to  be  to  the  princes  of  the  blood ;  for  there 
existed  a  singular  coolness  in  the  royal  family  towards 
all  the  princes  of  this  branch.  The  king  looked  upon 
it  as  vastly  inferior  to  his  own,  because  it  had  been  sep- 
arated from  the  throne  before  the  accession  of  Henry  IV. 
to  the  crown;  he  even  asserted,  that  there  was  much  to 
be  said  upon  this  subject,  and  prudence  compels  me  to 
pass  over  the  many  histories  and  circumstances  related 
by  him  to  me  of  this  brilliant  portion  of  his  noble  race. 

Neither  the  prince  de  Conde",  whom  I  knew  well,  nor 
the  prince  de  la  Marche,  entertained  much  regard  for 
their  relations;  and  they  had  always  some  spiteful  story 
in  store  respecting  the  posterity  of  Louis  XIII.  There 
is  one  historical'  fact  which  has  never  been  properly 
cleared  up. 

One  day  I  was  conversing  with  the  comte  de  la  Marche 
upon  the  disputes  concerning  the  parliaments,  and  ex- 
pressing my  fear,  that,  if  driven  to  desperate  measures, 
the  people  would  rise  in  open  rebellion  in  favor  of  the 
magistracy.  <(They  would  be  still  more  clamorous, w  re- 
plied he,  <(if  they  knew  all  I  could  tell  them.* 

(<  And  what  do  yen  know  more  than  myself  ? n  asked  I ; 
"your  highness  alarms  me  by  speaking  thus." 

*  Amongst  events  now  passed  and  gone  is  one  that 
would  materially  affect  the  public  peace,  if  known.  * 

<(  You  must  explain  yourself,  my  lord,  *  said  I.  He  re- 
fused; but  I  persisted  in  pressing  the  matter  with  so 
much  earnestness,  that  at  last  he  said,  in  a  low  voice, 

w  Did  you  ever  hear  of  the  man  who  wore  the  iron 
mask  ? w 

<(  Yes,  certainly, w  replied  I,  (<  who  was  he  ?  * 

<(  A  great  prince,  and  a  most  unfortunate  man. w 

(<  But  who  was  he  really  ? >J 

w  In  the  eyes  of  the  law  the  crown  of  France  should 
have  been  his;  but  in  the  conscientious  view  of  things 
he  certainly  had  no  claim.* 


200 


The  comte  de  la  Marche  stopped  here;  and,  as  I  was 
not  very  deeply  read  in  history,  I  did  not  exactly  com- 
prehend the  distinction  he  had  just  made.  I  had  fre- 
quently heard  talk  of  the  <(  Iron  Mask, w  whom  people 
reported  to  be  either  allied  to,  or  sprung  from,  the  royal 
family;  but  all  these  particulars  were  confused  in  my 
memory.  However,  I  was  much  struck  with  the  conversa- 
tion I  had  had  with  the  comte  de  la  Marche;  and  when 
next  the  conversation  fell  on  this  mysterious  personage, 
I  asked  the  due  de  Richelieu  what  he  thought  of  him. 

(<  Upon  my  honor, w  replied  he,  <(  I  never  could  find  out 
who  he  really  was;  not  that  I  did  not  try,w  added  he, 
assuming  an  air  of  modest  vanity,  which  well  became 
his  green  old  age.  <(  I  had  a  mistress  of  tolerably  high 
birth,  mademoiselle  d'Orleans,  as  indeed  I  had  the  honor 
of  having  the  princesses,  her  august  sisters.  However, 
the  former,  known  under  the  name  of  mademoiselle 
de  Charollais,  was  dying  to  do  some  act  of  kindness  that 
should  be  agreeable  to  me.  Well,  I  requested  she  would  ob- 
tain from  the  regent,  her  father,  the  solution  of  the  secret 
relative  to  the  ( Iron  Mask. J  She  used  every  possible 
device,  but  nothing  could  she  obtain  from  her  father,  who 
protested  that  the  mystery  should  never  escape  his  lips; 
and  he  kept  his  word,  he  never  did  divulge  it.  I  even 
imagine  that  the  king  himself  is  ignorant  of  it,  unless 
indeed  the  cardinal  de  Fleury  informed  him  of  it. w  The 
mare'chal  told  me  afterwards  that  he  thought  the  opinion 
adopted  by  Voltaire  the  most  probable,  viz :  that  this  un- 
known person  was  the  son  of  the  queen  Anne  of  Austria, 
mother  of  Louis  XIV.  These  last  words  helped,  in  a 
measure,  to  resolve  the  enigma  which  comte  de  la  Marche 
had  left  me  to  unravel;  and,  with  a  view  to  satisfy  my- 
self more  positively  on  the  subject,  I  availed  myself  of 
the  first  time  I  was  alone  with  the  king,  to  lead  the  con- 
versation to  this  story. 

At  the  mention  of  the  <(  Iron  Mask, w  Louis  XV.  started. 
*  And  do  you  really  credit  such  a  fable  ?  w  asked  he. 

(<  Is  it  then  entirely  untrue  ?  w   inquired  I. 

(<  Certainly  not, M  he  replied ;  (<  all  that  has  been  said  on 
the  matter  is  destitute  of  even  common  sense." 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  201 

"Well,"  cried  I,  "what  your  majesty  says  only  confirms 
what  I  heard  from  the  mare'chal  de  Richelieu." 

"  And  what  has  he  been  telling  you  ? " 

"Very  little,  sire;  he  told  me  only,  that  the  secret  of 
who  the  *  Iron  Mask y  really  was  had  not  been  communi- 
cated to  you." 

"The  mare'chal  is  a  simpleton  if  he  tells  you  so.  I 
know  the  whole  affair,  and  was  well  acquainted  with  the 
unhappy  business." 

"  Ah ! "  exclaimed  I,  clapping  my  hands  in  triumph, 
"just  now  you  affected  perfect  ignorance;  you  knew 
nothing  at  all  about  it,  and  now  —  " 

"You  are  a  very  dangerous  woman,"  cried  the  king, 
interrupting  me  by  loud  fits  of  laughter,  "and  you  are 
cunning  enough  even  to  surprise  the  secrets  of  the 
state. " 

"  "Pis  you,  rather,  who  could  not  resist  the  inclination 
to  let  me  see  that  you  knew  what  the  mare'chal  had  de- 
clared you  ignorant  of.  Which  of  us  two  is  the  more  to 
blame,  I  wonder  ?  " 

"Myself,  I  think,"  answered  the  king;  "for  after  all, 
you  did  but  act  with  the  candor  and  curiosity  of  your 
sex:  it  was  for  me  to  have  employed  more  of  the  pru- 
dence of  a  king  in  my  replies  to  your  interrogatories." 

"Well,  but,"  said  I,  "since  you  really  do  know  all  about 
this  man  with  the  iron  mask,  you  will  tell  it  to  me,  will 
you  not  ? " 

"  I  should  be  very  careful  how  I  gratified  your  cur- 
iosity, "  said  he ;  "  this  is  a  point  of  history  which  must 
never  be  cleared  up;  state  reasons  require  that  it  should 
for  ever  remain  a  matter  of  doubt." 

"  And  / must  have  you  tell  me, "  returned  I ;  "do  pray 
tell,  and  I  will  love  you  with  all  my  heart." 

"  It  cannot  be. " 

"  And  why  not  ?  This  unfortunate  person  has  been  long 
dead  without  leaving  any  posterity." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  of  that  ?  "  inquired  the  king,  in 
a  serious  tone. 

"But  what  signifies,"  said  I,  "whether  he  be  dead 
or  alive  ?  I  entreat  of  you  to  bestow  upon  me  this  proof 


202  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

of  your  confidence.  Who  of  all  those  who  have  spoken  of 
him  have  told  the  truth  ?  }) 

(<  Nobody;  but  Voltaire  has  approached  it  more  nearly 
than  any  one  else. w 

After  this  partial  confession  the  king  implored  of  me 
to  change  the  conversation,  which  I  could  easily  perceive 
was  extremely  disagreeable  to  him.  Nevertheless,  it  seemed 
to  me  quite  clear,  that  this  celebrated  person  belonged  to 
the  royal  family,  but  by  what  title  I  could  not  devise. 
It  was  in  vain  that  I  afterwards  revived  the  subject;  not 
even  during  the  most  tender  confidences  could  I  obtain 
the  information  I  desired.  Possibly  had  I  lived  with  him 
some  years  more  I  might  have  succeeded  in  drawing  from 
him  all  he  knew  respecting  the  object  of  my  curiosity. 
Old  men,  like  children,  can  conceal  nothing  from  those 
they  love,  and  who  have  obtained  over  them  an  influence 
they  willingly  submit  to. 

Before  I  proceed  to  more  important  events,  I  would 
fain  speak  of  persons  with  whom  I  lived  before  my  ele- 
vation. My  godfather,  M.  Billard  du  Monceau,  was  still 
living,  as  well  as  madame  Lagarde,  with  whom  I  had 
resided  as  companion.  My  interview  with  the  former  is 
well  known;  and  the  authors  of  "Anecdotes  of  My  Life," 
published  thirteen  years  since,  have  strictly  adhered  to 
the  truth,  with  the  exception  of  some  vulgarisms  they 
have  put  into  the  mouth  of  that  excellent  man  which  he 
never1  uttered. 

As  to  madame  Lagarde,  she  was  strangely  surprised  to 
see  me  arrive  at  her  house;  and  the  evident  embarrass- 
ment my  presence  occasioned  her  was  a  sufficient  revenge 
on  my  part  for  the  many  unkind  things  she  had  said  and 
done  respecting  me.  I  would  not  prolong  her  uncom- 
fortable situation,  but  studied  to  conduct  myself  with  the 
same  unaffected  simplicity  of  former  days.  I  talked  over 
the  past,  inquired  after  her  family,  and  offered  my  best 
services  and  protection  without  malice  for  what  was  gone 
by,  and  with  perfect  sincerity  for  the  future.  But  spite  of 
all  my  endeavors  to  spare  her  feelings,  it  was  evident 
that  rage  and  humiliation  at  the  advantage  my  altered 
fortunes  gave  me  over  her,  struggled  within  her,  and  the 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  203 

conflict  of  her  mind  was  but  too  plainly  depicted  in  her 
countenance.  However,  that  was  the  least  of  my  troubles; 
I  soon  restored  her  to  comparative  calmness;  and  before 
I  quitted  her,  made  her  promise  she  would  come  and  see 
me. 

She  would  gladly  have  evaded  this  request;  but  her 
son,  the  master  of  requests,  who  sufficiently  misjudged 
me  to  fear  my  resentment,  and  who  possessed  great  in- 
fluence over  her,  induced  her  to  present  herself  at  my 
house.  She  accordingly  came  to  call  upon  me,  with  a 
mind  bursting  with  spite  and  jealousy;  yet  she  choked 
down  her  angry  passions,  and  so  far  humbled  herself,  as 
to  entreat  my  pardon  for  her  own  sake  and  that  of  her 
family,  for  all  her  unkindness  towards  me.  I  would  not 
allow  her  to  finish;  <(  Madame, }>  said  I,  <(  I  only  allow 
agreeable  recollections  to  find  a  place  in  my  memory;  had 
I  entertained  the  slightest  resentment  against  either  you 
or  yours,  you  may  be  quite  certain  I  should  not  have  again 

(entered  your  dwelling;  and  I  again  repeat  the  offer  I 
made  the  other  day,  of  gladly  seizing  the  first  opportunity 
of  being  useful  to  you. " 
Each  of  these  words  expressive  of  the  kindest  feelings 
towards  her  was  like  the  stab  of  a  poniard.  She,  how.- 
ever,  extolled  them  with  the  most  exaggerated  praise,  im- 
ploring me  to  believe  how  deeply  she  regretted  her  past 
behavior,  and  talked  so  long  and  so  much  about  it,  that 
when  she  quitted  me,  it  was  with  the  most  certain  im- 
pression on  my  mind,  that  in  her  I  possessed  a  most 
violent  and  implacable  enemy,  and  in  this  conclusion  I 
was  quite  correct.  M.  Dudelay,  her  son,  had  the  effrontery 
to  request  to  be  presented  to  me,  and  charged  the  ex- 
cellent M.  de  Laborde  to  make  known  his  wishes  to  me. 
I  begged  he  would  inform  M.  Dudelay,  that  I  admitted 
into  the  circle  of  my  acquaintance  only  such  as  were  known 
to  the  king;  and  that  if  he  thought  proper  to  apply  to 
his  majesty,  I  should  obey  his  royal  will  on  the  subject, 
whatever  it  might  be.  He  justly  "considered  this  repulse 
as  a  biting  raillery,  for  which  he  never  forgave  me.  I 
entertained  no  ill  will  against  him  for  his  past  perfidy, 
but  I  considered  it  strange  that  he  should  presume  to 


204  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

approach  me  with  familiarity.  I  should  not  have  adopted 
the  same  line  of  conduct  towards  the  farmer-general, 
his  brother,  who,  less  assuming,  contented  himself  with 
assuring  me  of  his  devotion,  and  the  sincere  regret  with 
which  he  contemplated  the  past,  without  ever  seeking 
to  introduce  himself  into  my  presence. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

The  chevalier  de  la  Morliere — Portrait  of  the  due  de  Choiseul  —  The 
due  de  Choiseul  and  the  comtesse  du  Barry — No  reconciliation 
effected  —  Madame  du  Barry  and  the  due  d'Aiguillon  —  Madame  du 
Barry  and  Louis  XV. 

ABOUT  this  period  I  received  a  piece  of  attention,  any 
thing  but  gratifying-  if  considered  in  a  strictly 
honourable  sense.  The  contemptible  chevalier  de 
la  Morliere,  who  detested  me,  and  subsequently  pursued 
me  with  rage,  presumed  to  dedicate  to  me  some  wretched 
collection  of  his  compositions,  and  I  had  the  weakness 
to  accept  the  dedication ;  I  had  even  the  still  greater  folly 
to  receive  its  author  at  my  house;  this  piece  of  conde- 
scension injured  me  greatly.  Until  that  period  I  had  not, 
like  madame  de  Pompadour,  shown  myself  the  protectress 
and  patroness  of  men  of  letters;  and  even  my  warmest 
friends  could  not  deny,  that  in  stepping  forwards  as  the 
encourager  of  literature,  I  had  made  a  very  unfortunate 
choice  in  selecting  the  chevalier  de  la  Morliere  as  the 
first  object  of  my  patronage.  But  how  could  I  have 
done  otherwise  ?  The  prince  de  Soubise,  who  found  this 
man  serviceable  upon  many  occasions,  would  have  sacri- 
ficed any  thing  to  promote  his  advancement;  and  I  have 
been  assured,  that  had  the  mare'chal  taken  half  the  pains 
on  the  day  previous  to  the  battle  of  Rasbach,  we  should 
not  have  left  it  so  disgracefully. 

The  king  well  knew  the  unfortunate  chevalier  for  a 
man  as  destitute  of  modesty  as  merit;  when  therefore  he 
saw  his  book  upon  the  mantel-piece  of  my  drawing-room, 
he  said, 

(<  So !  you  are  the  inspiring  muse  of  the  chevalier  de 
la  Morliere;  I  only  warn  you,  when  the  day  comes  for 
him  to  be  hanged,  not  to  ask  me  to  pardon  him. w 

(205) 


206  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

<(  Be  assured, w  replied  I,  <(that  I  will  never  deprive 
the  Place  de  Greve  of  one  so  formed  to  do  honour  to  it. J> 

In  fact,  the  chevalier  was  within  an  ace  of  reaching 
it  before  his  friends  anticipated;  for,  very  shortly  after 
this  conversation,  he  was  guilty  of  the  most  detestable 
piece  of  knavery  I  ever  heard  of.  He  learned  that  an 
unfortunate  young  man  from  the  country,  into  whose 
confidence  he  had  wormed  himself,  was  to  receive  15,000 
livres  on  his  father's  account ;  he  invited  him  to  supper, 
and,  by  the  aid  of  two  villains  like  himself,  stripped  him 
of  his  last  sous.  Not  satisfied  with  this,  he  wrote  the 
father  such  an  exaggerated  account  of  his  son's  loss  and 
general  bad  habits,  that  the  enraged  and  irritated  parent 
procured  an  order  to  confine  his  son  at  Saint  Lazare ! 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  more  infamous  and  accomplished 
rogue  than  my  honourable  prottgt '?  However,  I  shall 
give  him  up  to  his  fate,  be  it  good  or  bad,  and  proceed 
with  the  relation  of  my  affair  with  due  de  Choiseul. 

I  had  named  to  madame  de  1'Hopital  the  hour  at  which 
I  could  receive  the  duke.  She  had  requested,  in  pursuance 
of  her  directions,  no  doubt,  that  the  conversation  between 
us  should  take  place  either  amidst  the  groves  of  Ver- 
sailles or  in  the  labyrinth  of  Marly ;  —  the  self-love  of 
M.  de  Choiseul  inducing  him  to  desire  that  this  interview 
should  be  so  contrived,  as  to  wear  the  air  of  a  mere  chance 
rencontre.  To  this  I  would  not  consent;  saying,  that  it 
did  not  suit  my  pleasure  to  quit  the  house ;  and  that  when 
a  gentleman  solicited  the  favour  of  speaking  to  a  lady, 
it  became  his  business  to  wait  upon  her,  without  expect- 
ing she  should  come  in  search  of  him;  and,  spite  of  all 
the  arguments  of  madame  de  1'Hopital,  I  persisted  in 
my  determination:  she  had  no  alternative  but  to  submit, 
and  I  awaited  the  coming  of  M.  de  Choiseul  on  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

The  due  de  Choiseul  possessed  a  greater  reputation 
than  his  talents  were  entitled  to;  and  his  advancement 
was  more  attributable  to  his  good  fortune  than  his  merit. 
He  had  found  warm  and  powerful  assistants  in  both  phi- 
losophers and  women;  he  was  a  confirmed  egotist,  yet 
passed  for  a  man  who  cared  little  for  self.  He  was  quick 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  207 

at  matters  of  business,  and  he  obtained  the  character  of 
a  deep  and  profound  politician.  It  must,  however,  be 
admitted,  that  he  was  witty,  gallant,  and  gifted  with  man- 
ners so  elegant  and  fascinating,  that  they  never  failed  to 
remove  the  first  unfavourable  impression  caused  by  his 
excessive  plainness.  The  tide  of  public  favour  was  with 
him;  and,  in  order  to  contest  it,  it  required  all  the  influ- 
ence of  a  woman,  and  that  woman  to  be  no  less  than  the 
beloved  mistress  of  the  king  of  France. 

He  presented  himself  before  me  tastefully  and  mag- 
nificently dressed,  both  look  and  voice  wearing  the  stamp 
of  high-born  pride  and  haughtiness.  Nevertheless,  amidst 
all  this  pomp,  it  was  evident  that  he  did  not  entirely  feel 
the  ease  he  assumed,  and  that  a  species  of  remorse  rankled 
at  his  heart,  spite  of  the  courtier-like  gallantry  with  which 
he  had  invested  himself. 

(<  Madam, w  said  he,  bowing  twice  most  profoundly,  «  the 
moment  has  arrived  which  I  have  long  most  ardently 
desired. w 

<(The  fault  has  not  been  mine,  my  lord,*  said  I,  "that 
it  has  been  delayed  until  now.  My  door  has  never  been 
shut  against  any  visit  you  might  have  honoured  me  with. * 

*  Ah,  madam !  why  have  I  not  known  this  sooner  ? 
Some  evil  planet  ruled  my  thoughts  when  it  occurred 
to  me  that  I  might  not  be  so  happy  as  to  meet  with  a 
favourable  reception. * 

<(  There,  my  lord,  you  were  indeed  in  error ;  for  though  I 
might  not  feel  a  very  tender  friendship  towards  you  whilst 
supposing  I  had  many  causes  for  complaint,  I  could  not 
refuse  you  those  marks  of  respect  your  rank  and  station 
entitle  you  to  receive. w 

(<  Then,  madam,  I  may  flatter  myself  that  I  should  have 
been  kindly  received  ?  w 

"  Yes,  sir,  you  would  ever  have  been  welcome,  but  not 
those  belonging  to  you,  for  I  will  be  perfectly  candid; 
always  excepting  the  duchesse  de  Choiseul,  for  whom  I 
entertain  the  greatest  veneration  and  respect.* 

<(  She  is  indeed  well  worthy  the  exalted  opinion  you  ex- 
press of  her ;  and  had  I  followed  her  advice,  I  should  not 
have  been  found  amongst  the  ranks  of  your  enemies." 


ao8  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

"  You  confess  the  fact  then,  monsieur  le  due  ? "  said  I. 

(<  I  trust,  madam,  you  will  not  take  advantage  of  an 
inadvertent  expression  to  turn  it  against  myself.  What  I 
fear  is,  that  without  ever  having  been  your  enemy,  I  may 
have  passed  for  such  in  your  estimation ;  and  such  indeed  is 
the  cruel  position  in  which  I  am  placed.* 

"Stay,  my  lord  duke,"  cried  I;  (<be  candid,  and  ac- 
knowledge that  you  are  my  enemy  as  you  have  ever  been ; 
and  that  it  is  only  because  there  has  been  war  between 
us  that  you  are  now  come  to  conclude  a  treaty  of  peace —  w 

"Peace  or  war,  madam,"  replied  he,  "as  you  please  to 
will  it;  all  I  will  admit  is,  that  things  have  turned  out 
most  unfavourably  for  my  wishes.  Your  arrival  at  Ver- 
sailles, your  grace,  beauty,  and  wit,  excited  universal 
jealousy;  and,  amidst  the  general  panic  caused  by  your 
all-excelling  merit,  was  it  not  necessary  I  too  should 
keep  myself  on  my  guard  ?  For  the  first  time  in  my  life 
a  beautiful  woman  became  an  object  of  alarm  to  me; 
you  may  further  believe  me,  when  I  protest  that,  at  the 
outset,  I  warmly  defended  you;  but  how  could  I  wage 
war  against  so  many  —  how  oppose  the  general  torrent? 
It  bore  me  down." 

<(And  you  fear  lest  it  should  carry  you  beyond  your 
depth,  and  would  fain  return  to  terra  Jirma;  is  it  not 
so,  my  lord  duke  ? " 

At  this  ironical  speech  an  expression  of  heavy  dis- 
pleasure rose  to  the  countenance  of  M.  de  Choiseul,  and 
he  remained  for  several  minutes  like  a  man  who  fears  to 
trust  himself  to  reply.  Then  he  added, 

"  Madam,  when  I  solicited  the  favour  of  this  conversa- 
tion, it  was  with  the  sincerest  desire  of  adjusting  all 
differences  between  us,  and  it  would  but  ill  advance  that 
purpose  were  I  now  to  reply  to  you  with  warmth  and 
petulance;  condescend,  on  your  part,  to  lay  aside  sarcasm 
and  raillery.  You  have  already  too  many  advantages 
over  me,  and  it  would  ill  accord  with  your  wonted  generos- 
ity to  insult  a  half-conquered  foe. " 

"You  are  right,  my  lord,"  answered  I;  "jests  and  re- 
crimination will  effect  nothing;  let  us  rather  proceed  at 
once  to  consider  what  is  best  for  the  interest  of  both." 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  209 

*  Willingly, "  replied  he.  <(Now  you  speak  to  the  pur- 
pose; and  as  I  was  prepared  to  hear  you  —  are  you  in- 
clined for  a  serious  discussion  of  our  business  ?  w 

<(  Pray  begin,  my  lord,   I  am  all  attention. " 

<(  Well,  madam,  I  deeply  regret  all  that  has  passed,  and 
deplore  that  my  friends  and  part  of  my  family  should  be 
disagreeable  to  you;  I  take  upon  myself  to  engage  that 
their  hostility  shall  end,  and  am  willing  to  afford  you 
the  most  perfect  satisfaction  upon  this  point.  Impressed 
with  highest  respect  for  his  majesty,  and  the  most  lively 
desire  to  serve  him,  I  ask  for  nothing  more  than  to  be 
on  good  terms  with  those  he  loves;  and  as  for  the  future, 
my  unshrinking  loyalty  may  be  relied  on.* 

"  I  am  well  assured  of  it,  my  lord  duke ;  and  likewise 
that  you  have  never  taken  any  part  in  the  calumnies 
which  have  been  aimed  at  me.  Let  us  then  forgive  the 
past;  and  since  we  are  agreed  as  to  the  future,  let  us  speak 
but  of  the  present.  I  have  friends  fitted  to  serve  the 
king,  whose  ambition  leads  them  to  aspire  to  that  honour. 
What  will  you  do  to  assist  them  ? " 

<(  Ere  I  promise  that,  madam,  it  is  necessary  I  should 
be  acquainted  with  them.8 

tt  What  would  it  avail  to  name  them  to  you  ?  You  per- 
fectly well  comprehend  to  whom  I  allude.  I  am  reso- 
lutely decided  to  support  them,  and  to  employ  for  this 
purpose  the  friendship  with  which  his  majesty  deigns  to 
honour  me.8 

The  duke  coloured  deeply  at  these  words. 

<(  Then,  madam,"  said  he,  <(you  would  fain  strip  me 
to  enrich  others  ? " 

(<  No,  my  lord,  I  ask  but  a  division  of  your  possessions. 
You  cannot  have  every  thing;  and  it  would  not  be  fair 
that  oiir  reconciliation  should  be  profitable  to  you  only." 

<(  I  did  not  anticipate,  madam,  in  coming  hither,  that 
you  would  command  me  to  offer  up  myself  as  a  sacrifice 
upon  an  altar  raised  by  you  to  -the  interests  of  your 
friends." 

"Meaning  to   say,    my   lord   duke,    that   you   will   keep 
every  thing  to  'yourself.     I  cannot  compliment  you  upon 
your  liberality,   however  I  may   for  your  candour.* 
14 


2io  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

(<  Madam,  I  have  never  since  my  entry  into  the  min- 
istry sought  to  live  at  the  expense  of  my  country,  and 
let  me  resign  office  when  I  may,  I  shall  retire  loaded 
only  with  debts,  whilst  you  and  your  friends  draw  large 
revenues  from  the  nation.* 

The  conversation  became  warm  and  angry;  the  duke 
and  myself,  with  crimson  cheeks  and  inflamed  counte- 
nances, surveyed  each  other  with  haughty  defiance.  At 
length  he  added, 

(<  I  had  hoped  that  I  should  have  quitted  you  more 
kindly  disposed  towards  me.* 

<(And  I,  my  lord,  fancied  that  you  were  coming  with 
an  ardent  desire  for  peace;  but  no,  the  spirit  of  your 
sister  leads  you  astray,  and  you  would  fain  punish  me 
for  her  absence  from  court.* 

(<  Madam,  I  beseech  you  to  leave  my  sister  in  peace ; 
she  has  gone,  that  ought  to  satisfy  you.  We  will  not, 
if  you  please,  speak  of  her.* 

<(  I  only  wish  that  she  would  likewise  do  me  the  honour 
to  be  silent  respecting  me.  I  am  not  ignorant  that  she 
continues  to  aim  her  slanders  at  me  from  afar  as  she 
did  when  near  me.  One  might  suppose  that  the  sole 
object  of  her  journey  ings  was  but  to  excite  all  France 
against  me.* 

"Madam,  you  are  mistaken.     My  sister — * 

<(  Continues  to  play  the  same  part  in  the  country  she 
did  in  Paris.  She  detests  me  because  I  happen  to  have 
youth  and  beauty  on  my  side.  May  her  hatred  last 
forever.  * 

<(Ah,  madam,  say  not  so;  for  with  your  charms  you 
are  indeed  too  formidable  an  antagonist;  and  the  more 
so,  as  I  clearly  perceive  you  are  not  inclined  for  peace.* 

(<  At  least,*  said  I,  (<the  war  on  my  side  shall  be  fair 
and  open,  and  those  belonging  to  you  have  not  always 
waged  it  with  me  upon  those  terms.* 

The  duke  merely  warded  off  this  last  assertion  by  some 
unmeaning  compliment,  and  we  separated  greater  enemies 
than  ever. 

The  first  person  to  whom  I  could  communicate  what 
had  passed  was  the  due  d'Aiguillon.  He  listened  to  my 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  211 

recital  without  any  decided  expression  of  his  opinion ;  but 
no  sooner  had  I  concluded,  than  he  took  me  by  the  hand, 
and  pressing  it  with  a  friendly  grasp, 

<(  How  I  congratulate  you,"  said  he,  "upon  the  good 
fortune  which  has  extricated  you  from  this  affair.  Do 
you  know  that  a  reconciliation  with  the  due  de  Choiseul 
would  have  involved  your  inevitable  disgrace  ?  What 
evil  genius  counselled  you  to  act  in  such  a  manner  ? " 

(<  I  fancied  I  was  doing  right, "  said  I,  <(in  thus  prov- 
ing to  the  king  that  I  was  not  an  unreasonable  woman." 

(<  The  Choiseuls, "  replied  he,  <(  would  have  entangled  you 
in  their  nets,  and,  separated  from  your  real  friends,  would 
have  made  you-  the  innocent  author  of  your  own  destruc- 
tion Tell  the  king  just  so  much,  that  the  due  de  Choiseul 
has  been  to  see  you,  that  you  conversed  together  some 
time,  and  that  he  has  offended  you  more  than  ever." 

(<  I  promise  you,  my  kind  friend, "  said  I,  <(  to  follow 
your  advice." 

When  I  next  saw  the  king,  I  apprized  him  of  the  visit. 

(<  That  does  not  astonish  me, "  said  Louis  XV. ,  (<  the 
duke  is  anxious  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with  you." 

(<  He  has  then  taken  a  very  contrary  road  to  arrive  at 
my  friendship, "  said  I ;  *  if  he  really  desires  that  we  should 
be  on  good  terms,  he  must  conduct  himself  very  differ- 
ently"; and  there  the  conversation  ended.  But  several 
days  afterwards,  having  sent  away  my  mditre  d'hStel,  with 
whom  I  had  reason  to  be  dissatisfied,  and  the  king  ap- 
pearing surprised  at  seeing  a  fresh  countenance  amongst 
my  household,  I  said  to  him,  <(  Sir,  I  have  got  rid  of 
my  Choiseul,  when  will  it  please  you  to  get  rid  of  yours  ? " 
The  king,  without  replying  to  me,  began  to  laugh;  in 
which,  for  want  of  a  better  termination  to  my  remark, 
I  was  constrained  to  join. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

Dorine  —  Mademoiselle  Choin  and  the  marechal  d'Uxelles  —  Zamor —  M. 
de  Maupeou's  wig  —  Henriette  —  The  due  de  Villeroi  and  Sophie  — 
Letter  from  the  comtesse  du  Barry  to  the  due  de  Villeroi — His 
reply  —  The  countess  writes  again  —  Madame  du  Barry  and  Sophie 
—  Louis  XV.  and  the  comtesse  du  Barry. 

AMONG  the  number  which  composed  my  household  were 
three  beings  who  played  conspicuous  parts  in  my 
family,  and  who  received  the  kindest  caresses  in 
honour  of  their  mistress.  These  three  favoured  objects 
were  Dorine,  Zamor,  and  Henriette.  Following  the  or- 
der or  disorder  in  which  I  have  written  thus  far,  I  will 
first  introduce  my  dear  Dorine  to  your  notice. 

Sweet,  beautiful  Dorine!  how  amiably  affectionate  and 
attached  to  thy  mistress  wert  thou!  The  poor  animal 
still  exists ;  for  I  would  have  you  know  that  I  am  speak- 
ing of  a  most  faithful  little  dog;  now  indeed  grown  old, 
asthmatic  and  snappish;  but  fifteen  years  since,  distin- 
guished for  her  lightness,  swiftness,  and  grace,  for  her 
pretty  little  countenance,  white  teeth,  large  sparkling 
eyes,  long  tufted  tail,  and  above  all,  for  her  snow-white 
coat,  spotted  here  and  there  with  the  most  beautiful  brown. 

Dorine  was  just  three  months  old  when  madame  de 
Montmorency  brought  her  to  me  in  her  muff;  her  throat 
was  adorned  with  a  rich  gold  collar,  bearing  the  arms  of 
the  du  Barrys,  and  clasped  with  a  large  sapphire  sur- 
rounded with  diamonds.  The  moment  she  saw  me  Dorine 
leaped  upon  my  lap  with  the  most  endearing  familiarity, 
and  from  that  period  has  never  quitted  me.  My  train  of 
courtiers  hastened  to  become  those  of  the  new  favourite 
likewise;  and  pastrycooks  and  confectioners  racked  their 
brains  to  procure  tempting  morsels  for  the  gentle  Dorine. 
She  sipped  her  coffee  daily  from  a  golden  saucer,  and 

(212) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  213 

Zamor  (between  whom  and  Dorine  a  mutual  dislike  ex- 
isted) was  appointed  her  cupbearer.  The  wonderful  in- 
stinct of  the  highly  gifted .  animal  soon  taught  her,  that 
although  she  had  free  permission  to  bark  at  all  the  rest 
of  the  world,  there1  was  one  person  in  it  to  whom  it  be- 
hoved her  to  show  herself  in  her  most  gracious  and  smil- 
ing moods ;  who  this  person  was  I  leave  it  to  your  sagacity 
to  divine.  She,  however,  indemnified  herself  for  this 
extra  complaisance  by  barking  and  biting  at  all  who  ap- 
proached; and  the  handsomest,  best  turned  leg  in  the 
court  was  not  secure  from  the  sharp  teeth  of  mademoiselle 
Dorine.  Nevertheless,  all  vied  in  praising  and  fondling 
her,  and  I  was  enchanted  with  the  general  admiration 
she  excited,  as  well  as  the  attention  she  received.  One 
day  that  I  was  exultingly  relating  to  the  due  d'Aiguillon 
the  cares  and  praises  lavished  on  my  dog,  he  replied, 
(<The  grand  dauphin,  son  of  Louis  XIV.,  after  the  death 
of  his  wife,  Marie  Christine  of  Bavaria,  secretly  espoused 
mademoiselle  Choin.  The  mare'chal  d'Uxelles,  who  was 
not  ignorant  of  this  marriage,  professed  himself  the  most 
devoted  friend  of  the  lady;  he  visited  her  regularly  morn- 
ing and  evening,  and  even  carried  his  desire  to  please 
her  so  far,  as  to  send  a  servant  with  a  dish  of  grilled 
hare  for  the  house  dog,  who  had  a  particular  fancy  for 
game  dressed  in  that  manner!  These  attentions  and  assi- 
duities were  faithfully  continued  for  several  years,  till  the 
grand  dauphin  died,  and  then  no  more  morning  and  even- 
ing visits,  no  more  presents  to  either  mistress  or  dog. 
Apply  the  story  well,*  added  the  duke,  as  he  terminated 
his  recital.  Unfortunately  the  application  of  the  tale  pre- 
sented itself  but  too  soon,  and  I  have  experienced  the  sad 
truth  of  the  history  of  mademoiselle  Choin.  At  the  death 
of  the  king  so  did  my  visitors  disappear;  and  poor  -Dorine 
has  partaken  of  the  disgrace  of  the  comtesse  du  Barry. 

The  second  object  of  my  regard  was  Zamor,  a  young 
African  boy,  full  of  intelligence  and  mischief;  simple 
and  independent  in  his  nature,  yet  wild  as  his  country. 
Zampr  fancied  himself  the  equal  of  all  he  met,  scarcely 
deigning  to  acknowledge  the  king  himself  as  his  superior. 
This  son  of  Africa  was  presented  to  me  by  the  due  de 


214  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

Richelieu,  clad  in  the  picturesque  costume  of  his  native 
land;  his  head  ornamented  with  feathers  of  every  colour, 
a  short  petticoat  of  plaited  grass  around  his  waist,  while 
the  richest  bracelets  adorned  his  wrists,  and  chains  of 
gold,  pearls,  and  rubies,  glittered  over  his  neck  and  hung 
from  his  ears.  Never  would  any  one  have  suspected 
the  old  mare'chal,  whose  parsimony  was  almost  proverbial, 
of  making  such  a  magnificent  present. 

In  honour  of  the  tragedy  of  Alzire,  I  christened  my 
little  negro  Zamor,  to  whom  by  degrees  I  became  attached 
with  all  the  tenderness  of  a  mother.  You  ask  me  why  ? 
Indeed  that  is  more  than  I  can  tell;  perhaps  at  first  I 
looked  upon  him  as  a  sort  of  puppet  or  plaything,  but, 
imperceptibly  to  myself,  I  became  passionately  fond  o{ 
my  little  page,  nor  was  the  young  urchin  slow  in  per* 
ceiving  the  ascendancy  he  had  gained  over  me,  and,  in 
the  end,  to  abuse  his  influence,  and  attained,  as  I  have 
before  said,  an  almost  incredible  degree  of  insolence  and 
effrontery.  Still  I  pardoned  all  his  folly,  and  amused 
myself  from  morning  to  night  with  watching  his  nimble 
fingers  perform  a  thousand  tricks  of  jugglery.  Even  now 
that  I  have  lost  the  gaiety  of  my  happy  days,  when  I 
recall  his  irresistibly  comic  ways,  I  catch  myself  laughing, 
like  an  old  simpleton,  at  the  bare  recollection  of  his 
monkey  feats.  I  could  relate  twenty  of  his  mischievous 
pranks,  each  more  amusing  than  the  other.  I  will, 
however,  excuse  you  from  hearing  nineteen  of  them, 
upon  condition  that  you  shall  listen  to  the  twentieth, 
which  I  select  as  being  the  shortest. 

One  day,  upon  which  I  had  invited  some  select  friends 
to  dinner,  a  superb  pie  was  brought  to  table  as  a  present 
which  the  ungallant  M.  de  Maupeou  had  had  the  polite- 
ness to  send  me  in  the  morning.  One  of  the  company 
proceeded  to  cut  it,  when  scarcely  had  he  pierced  the 
crust,  than  its  perfidious  contents  proved  to  be  an  im- 
mense swarm  of  cockchafers,  which  spread  humming  and 
buzzing  all  over  the  chamber.  Zamor,  who  had  never 
before  seen  these  insects,  began  to  pursue  them  all  over 
the  room,  buzzing  and  humming  as  loudly  as  they*  did. 
The  chase  lasted  a  long  time;  but  at  last  the  poor  cock- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  215 

chafers,  weary  of  carrying  on  the  war,  and  mistaking  the 
peruke  of  M.  de  Maupeou  for  an  impregnable  fortress, 
flew  to  take  refuge  there.  What  did  Zamor  do,  but  run 
to  the  chancellor,  snatch  off  his  wig,  and  carry  it  in 
triumph  to  a  corner  of  the  room  with  its  colony  of  cock- 
chafers, leaving  us  all  to  admire  the  bald  head  of  the 
chief  magistrate.  I  could  willingly  have  enjoyed  a  hearty 
laugh  at  this  scene,  but,  out  of  respect  for  M.  de  Mau- 
peou, I  feigned  to  be  much  displeased  with  Zamor,  whom 
I  desired  one  of  the  attendants  to  flog  for  his  rudeness. 
However,  the  guests  and  the  chancellor  uniting  in  en- 
treaties that  I  would  pardon  him,  I  was  obliged  to  allow 
my  assumed  anger  to  give  way  to  their  request,  and  the 
culprit  received  a  pardon. 

There  was  but  one  person  in  the  world  whom  Zamor 
really  feared;  he  was  however  on  good  terms  with  all 
my  friends,  and  did  not  disdain  the  society  of  the  king. 
You  have  heard  that  the  latter,  by  way  of  amusement, 
bestowed  on  my  little  negro  the  title  of  governor  of  the 
Pavilion  de  Lucienne,  with  a  revenue  arising  therefrom 
of  a  thousand  crowns,  and  that  the  chancellor  caused 
the  necessary  papers  to  be  prepared  and  delivered  to  him 
sealed  with  the  state  seal. 

But  of  all  the  persons  who  visited  me,  the  one  most  be- 
loved by  Zamor  was  madame  de  Mirepoix,  who  never  came 
without  bringing  him  amusing  presents  or  some  sweet- 
meats. The  sight  of  her  threw  him  into  ecstasies  of  delight ; 
and  the  moment  he  caught  sight  of  her,  he  would  clap  his 
hands,  leap  with  joy,  dance  around  her,  and  kiss  her  hand, 
exclaiming,  ^Ah!  tname  la  chalet  (<(Ah!  madame  la 
mare*chale)>).  The  poor  mare'chale  always  dreaded  meet- 
ing the  king  when  she  came  to  visit  me  and  Zamor;  for 
the  great  delight  of  his  majesty  was  to  make  my  little 
negro  repeat  a  name  of  Israelitish  origin,  which  he  did 
in  so  ridiculous  a  manner,  that  the  modesty  of  my  fair 
friend  was  most  shockingly  put  to  the  blush. 

One  person  alone  never  vouchsafed  to  bestow  the  slight- 
est glance  of  encouragement  upon  my  little  imp  of  Africa, 
and  this  was  comte  Jean,  who  even  went  so  far  as  to 
awe  him  into  silence  either  by  a  frown  or  a  gesture  of 


216  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

impatience;  his  most  lively  tricks  could  not  win  a  smile 
from  the  count,  who  was  either  thoughtful  or  preoccupied 
with  some  ambitious  scheme  of  fortune.  Zamor  soon  felt 
a  species  of  instinctive  dread  of  this  overpowering  and  awe- 
inspiring  genius,  whose  sudden  appearance  would  chill  him 
in  his  wildest  fits  of  mirthful  mischief,  and  send  him  cow- 
ering to  a  corner  of  the  room;  where  he  would  remain 
huddled  together,  and  apparently  stupefied  and  motion- 
less, till  the  count  quitted  the  apartment. 

At  the  moment  of  my  writing  this,  Zamor  still  resides 
under  my  roof.  During  the  years  he  has  passed  with 
me  he  has  gained  in  height,  but  in  none  of  the  intellectual 
qualities  does  he  seem  to  have  made  any  progress;  age 
has  only  stripped  him  of  the  charms  of  infancy  without 
supplying  others  in  their  place ;  nor  can  I  venture  to  affirm, 
that  his  gratitude  and  devotion  to  me  are  such  as  I  have 
reason  to  expect  they  should  be;*  for  I  can  with  truth 
affirm,  that  I  have  never  ceased  to  lavish  kindness  on 
him,  and  to  be,  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  a  good  mis- 
tress to  him. 

There  was  one  member  of  my  establishment,  however, 
whom  I  preferred  to  either  Dorine  or  Zamor  and"  this 
was  Henriette,  who  was  sincerely  attached  to  me,  and 
who,  for  that  very  reason,  was  generally  disliked  through- 
out the  castle.  I  had  procured  a  good  husband  for  her, 
on  whom  I  bestowed  a  post  which,  by  keeping  both  him- 
self and  his  wife  in  the  close  vicinity  of  the  castle,  pre- 
vented my  kind  friend  from  quitting  me.  However,  my 
poor  Henriette  was  not  fated  to  enjoy  a  long  connubial 
felicity,  for  her  husband,  being  seized  with  a  violent  fever, 
in  a  fit  of  delirium  threw  himself  from  a  window  into  the 
court  below,  and  was  taken  up  dead.  Slander  availed 
herself  even  of  this  fatal  catastrophe  to  whisper  abroad, 
that  the  death  of  the  unhappy  man  arose  from  his  deep 
sense  of  his  wife's  misconduct  and  infidelity.  This  I  can 
positively  assert  was  not  the  case,  for  Henriette  was 
warmly  and  truly  attached  to  him,  and  conducted  herself 
as  a  wife  with  the  most  undeviating  propriety.  The  fact 

*This  wretch,  whom  the  comtesse  du  Barry  loaded  with  her  fa- 
vours and  benefits,  conducted  her  to  the  scaffold. —  EDITOR. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  217 

was,  that  Henriette  had  drawn  upon  herself  a  general 
hatred  and  ill  will,  because  she  steadily  refused  all  gos- 
siping invitations,  where  my  character  would  have  been 
pulled  to  pieces,  and  the  affairs  of  my  household  dis- 
cussed and  commented  upon:  there,  indeed,  she  had 
sinned  beyond  all  hope  of  pardon. 

She  it  was  who  pointed  out  to  me  the  perfidious  con- 
duct of  the  due  de  Villeroi.  This  gentleman,  from  the 
very  beginning  of  my  rise  in  the  royal  favour,  had  demon- 
strated the  most  lively  friendship  for  me,  of  which  he 
sought  to  persuade  me  by  the  strongest  protestations, 
which,  weak  and  credulous  as  I  was,  I  implicitly  be- 
lieved, until  one  day  that  Henriette,  availing  herself  of 
my  being  quite  alone,  let  me  into  the  secrets  of  my  es- 
tablishment and  furnished  me  with  a  key  to  the  assiduities 
of  M.  de  Villeroi. 

Amongst  the  females  in  my  service  was  one  named 
Sophie,  young,  beautiful  both  in  face  and  form,  of  a  sweet 
disposition,  and  every  way  calculated  to  inspire  the  ten- 
der passion.  M.  de  Villeroi  felt  the  full  force  of  her 
charms,  and  became  the  whining,  sighing  lover  —  her 
very  shadow.  Up  to  this  period  I  had  had  no  cause  of 
complaint  against  M.  de  Villeroi;  and  certainly  I  should 
not  have  interfered  with  his  plebeian  flame  had  he  not 
thought  proper,  when  questioned  by  my  enemies  as  to 
his  continual  presence  at  the  castle,  and  great  assiduities 
there,  to  protest  that  his  visits  thither  were  not  in  honour 
of  my  charms,  but  for  those  of  my  waiting-maid.  How- 
ever, my  vanity  had  rendered  me  his  constant  dupe. 

I  felt  perfectly  astonished  as  I  listened  to  Henriette's 
recital;  and  when  she  had  ceased,  I  conjured  her  to  tell 
me  candidly,  whether  she  had  not  invented  the  whole 
tale  either  out  of  spite  to  Sophie  or  with  a  design  to 
make  me  break  off  further  friendship  with  the  duke. 
This  she  most  solemnly  denied,  and  recommended  me 
to  make  inquiries  amongst  my  friends,  who  would  be 
compelled  to  bear  testimony  to  the  truth  of  all  she  had 
asserted.  I  determined  to  do  so ;  and  the  first  person 
whom  I  was  enabled  to  interrogate  respecting  the  affair 
was  the  bishop  de  Senlis.  This  prelate  came  frequently 


2i8  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

to  see  me,  and  I  found  his  society  each  day  more  pleas- 
ing. He  served  me  as  a  kind  of  gazette  of  all  that 
passed  with  the  princesses,  in  whose  opinion  I  had  still 
the  misfortune  not  to  be  in  the  very  highest  estimation. 
When  occasion  required  it,  M.  de  Roquelaure  would  ven- 
ture to  take  my  part,  and  that  without  making  a  single 
enemy;  for  who  could  be  offended  with  one  so  affable, 
so  good,  so  full  of  kindness  towards  all  ?  In  fact,  the 
worthy  bishop  was  so  fortunate  as  to  obtain  the  love  of 
every  person  who  knew  him;  and,  in  the  most  select 
society  of  opposing  parties,  each  would  reserve  a  place 
for  good  M.  de  Roquelaure. 

'  When  I  questioned  him  as  to  his  knowledge  of  the 
affair,  his  embarrassment  was  evident. 

<(  What  a  world  is  this ! w  cried  he.  a  Why,  let  me 
ask,  do  you  listen  to  those  who  repeat  such  mortifying 
tales  to  you  ? }) 

<(  Because,  my  lord,  my  friends  will  not  see  me  made 
the  sport  of  a  heartless  and  perfidious  friend ;  and,  if  you 
entertain  the  slightest  regard  for  me,  I  conjure  you  to 
tell  me  all  you  know  upon  the  subject." 

<(  And  do  you,  my  good  madam,  conceive  that  it  would 
become  my  sacred  calling  to  speak  ill  of  my  neighbour  ? 
besides,  surely  you  would  not  attach  any  belief  to  the 
idle  reports  spread  about  the  castle  by  ill-disposed  persons  ? w 
'  (<  All  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  my  question,  my  lord, w 
resumed  I.  <(  I  ask  you  once  again,  whether  you  ever 
heard  the  due  de  Villeroi  assign  his  passion  for  one  of 
my  women  as  the  reason  for  his  visits  to  me  ?  Have 
you,  my  lord  bishop  ?  I  entreat  you  to  answer. w 

(<  Madam,  I  have  not, w  said  the  good  prelate,  colouring 
deeply. 

(<Ah,  monsieur  de  Roquelaure, w  cried  I,  <(you  must 
not  say  mass  to-morrow,  for  I  greatly  fear  you  have  just 
committed  a  certain  fault  which  is  styled  fibbing." 

The  bishop  made  no  reply,  and  his  silence  spoke  vol- 
umes of  confirmation. 

Scarcely  had  he  quitted  me  than  the  due  d'Aiguillon 
entered,  to  whom  I  put  the  same  question ;  and  he  frankly 
confessed,  that  the  excuse  alleged  to  have  been  used  by 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  219 

the  due  de  Villeroi  was  strictly  the  expression  of  that 
gentleman. 

<(  I  was  wrong, B  said  the  duke,  <(  not  to  have  mentioned 
it  to  you,  but  I  was  silent  from  a  desire  to  preserve  peace 
between  you.  Now  that  the  affair  has  been  revealed 
to  you,  I  will  not  sully  my  lips  with  a  falsehood  for  the 
pleasure  of  upholding  an  unprincipled  man.* 

<(  I  will  not  ask  you  to  tell  me  more, w  replied  I.  ft  I 
know  enough  to  make  me  despise  the  cowardly  spirit  of 
him  whom  I  reject  as  unworthy  of  my  friendship.8  So 
saying,  I  ran  to  my  writing-table,  and  wrote  to  the  due 
de  Villeroi  the  following  note :  — 

«  MONSIEUR  LE  DUG, — I  love  my  friends  with  all  their  faults,  but  I 
cannot  pardon  their  perfidy;  and,  since  from  what  I  have  heard  I 
am  left  to  conclude,  that  but  for  the  charms  of  my  attendant  Sophie, 
I  should  not  have  been  favoured  with  so  many  of  your  visits,  I  now 
write  to  warn  you,  that  I  this  day  dismiss  the  unfortunate  object  of 
your  admiration  from  my  service,  and  therefore  recommend  you  to 
cease  all  further  communication.  Your  presence  in  my  house  would 
be  any  thing  but  agreeable  to  me;  and  since  the  fair  object  which 
has  hitherto  attracted  you  will  no  longer  dwell  under  my  roof,  I  pre- 
sume your  presenting  yourself  before  me  would  only  be  more  painful 
than  you  have  hitherto  found  it.  The  frankness  of  my  conduct  may 
offend  you,  but  it  cannot  surprise  or  grieve  you  more  than  your 
duplicity  has  me. 
•  « I  remain  with  befitting  sentiments,  monsieur  le  due, 

«Your  most  humble  and  obedient  servant.* 

When  I  had  completed  my  letter,  I  rang,  and  a  foot- 
man attended.  "Go,®  said  I  to  him,  (<  carry  this  note  im- 
mediately to  the  due  de  Villeroi,  and  wait,  if  it  be 
necessary,  the  whole  day,  until  you  can  return  with  the 
assurance  that  you  have  delivered  it  into  his  own  hand." 

Whilst  I  was  thus  speaking  to  the  man,  who  had  been 
engaged  by  my  steward,  and  very  recently  entered  into 
my  service,  I  chanced  to  look  at  him  inadvertently,  when 
my  attention  was  arrested  by  seeing  him  rapidly  change 
colour.  I  could  not  at  the  moment  conceive  what  could 
thus  agitate  him,  and  making  a  sign  for  him  to  depart 
immediately  upon  his  commission,  he  slowly  left  the  room, 
regarding  me  as  he  went  in  such  a  manner,  that  I  could 
not  fail  recognising  him:  and  here,  my  friend,  I  must 


220  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

lay  aside  every  particle  of  self-love  and  vanity  ere  I  can 
make  you  a  complete  confession;  the  retrospect  of  my 
life  brings  many  events,  of  which  the  remembrance  is 
indeed  painful  to  me,  and  only  the  solemn  promise  I  am 
under  to  conceal  nothing  restrains  me  from  consigning 
many  particulars  to  oblivion.  I  am  once  more  about  to 
incur  the  chance  of  drawing  down  your  contempt  by  my 
candour,  but  before  I  enter  upon  the  subject,  permit  me 
to  conclude  my  affair  with  the  due  de  Villeroi. 

My  letter  was  a  thunderbolt  to  the  duke.  He  better 
than  any  one  knew  the  extent  of  my  credit,  which  he 
dreaded,  lest  I  might  employ  it  to  his  injury;  he  there- 
fore hastened  to  reply  to  me  in  the  following  words :  — 

«  MADAME  LA  COMTESSE,  —  I  am  a  most  unhappy,  or  rather  a  vilely 
calumniated  man;  and  my  enemies  have  employed  the  most  odious 
means  of  making  me  appear  despicable  in  your  eyes.  I  confess,  that 
not  daring  to  aspire  to  you,  I  stopped  at  the  footstool  of  your  throne, 
but  I  wholly  deny  the  words  which  have  been  laid  to  my  charge.  I 
venture  to  expect  from  your  justice  that  you  will  grant  me  the  favour 
of  an  opportunity  of  exculpating  myself  from  so  black  a  charge.  It 
would  be  cruel  indeed  to  condemn  a  man  without  hearing  him. 

<(I  am  with  the  most  profound  respect,  &c.w 

To  this  hypocritical  epistle  I  replied  by  another  note 
as  follows:  — 

<(  Every  bad  and  unfavourable  case  may  be  denied,  monsieur  le 
due,  therefore  I  am  not  astonished  at  your  seeking  to  repel  the 
charge  of  having  uttered  the  disrespectful  words  laid  to  your  charge. 
As  for  the  explanations  you  offer  me  they  would  be  fruitless;  I  will 
have  none  with  those  who  have  either  been  my  friends  or  appeared 
to  be  such.  I  must  therefore  beg  you  will  cease  all  attempts  at  a 
correspondence  which  can  lead  to  no  good  results. 

«I  have  the  honour  to  remain,  &c.,  &c.» 

After  this  business  was  despatched,  I  caused  Sophie 
to  be  sent  for  to  attend  me. 

((Well,  Sophie,"  said  I,  <(you  perceive  the  confusion 
you  have  occasioned  through  your  folly.  Is  it  then  true 
that  the  due  de  Villeroi  has  spoken  of  love  to  you  ? w 

<(  Yes,  indeed,  madam, w  replied  the  poor  girl,  weeping 
bitterly. 

<(  And  you  return  his  passion  *  ° 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  221 

<(  I  believe  so,  madam. w 

This  naif  confession  made  me  smile.     I  continued  — 

(<  Then  you  are  not  quite  sure  of  the  fact  ? B 

<(  No,  madam ;  for  when  I  do  not  see  him  I  forget  all 
about  it;  but  when  he  is  before  me,  so  handsome  and  so 
generous,  so  full  of  love,  I  try  to  make  myself  equally 
fond  of  him ;  but  somehow  I  cannot  help  preferring  his 
courier,  M.  1'Eclair." 

These  last  words  completely  destroyed  all  attempts 
at  preserving  my  gravity,  and  I  burst  into  the  most  un- 
controllable laughter,  which,  however,  soon  gave  place 
to  a  painful  recollection  of  how  soon  this  young  and 
artless  creature,  as  simple  as  she  was  beautiful,  was  likely 
to  lose  this  open-heartedness  in  the  hands  of  her  se- 
ducer. 

<(  Sophie,  *  said  I  to  her  at  last,  <(  this  unfortunate  affair 
forbids  my  retaining  you  any  longer  in  my  service ;  I  am 
compelled  to  send  you  from  me.  I  trust  this  noble  lover 
of  yours  will  never  forsake  you ;  have  a  care  only  to 
conceal  from  him,  should  you  persist  in  encouraging  his 
addresses,  that  he  has  a  rival  in  the  person  of  his  courier, 
1'  Eclair. » 

Sophie  threw  herself  weeping  at  my  feet.  I  raised  and 
encouraged  her  by  the  kindest  words  to  pursue  the  right 
path,  but  I  remained  steady  in  my  determination  of  send- 
ing her  from  me. 

I  was  not  mistaken.  The  due  de  Villeroi  became  the 
possessor  of  poor  Sophie,  and  publicly  boasted  of  having 
her  under  his  protection.  He  did  not,  however,  proceed 
to  these  extreme  measures  until  he  had  essayed  every 
possible  means  of  effecting  a  reconciliation  with  me,  and 
he  employed  more  than  a  hundred  persons  in  the  vain 
attempt  of  inducing  me  to  pardon  him.  With  this  view 
the  marechale  de  Mirepoix,  whose  succour  he  had  im- 
plored, observed  to  me  that  it  was  sometimes  necessary 
to  feign  to  overlook  an  insult;  I  replied,  that  dissimula- 
tion was  an  art  I  knew  nothing  of,  nor  did  I  wish  ever 
to  acquire  it. 

(<  Really,  my  dear  countess, w  cried  she,  <(  you  should 
not  live  at  court,  you  are  absolutely  unfit  for  it. w 


222  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

<(  It  may  be  so,"  replied  I;  wbut  I  would  rather  quit 
Versailles  altogether  than  be  surrounded  by  false  and 
perfidious  friends.® 

All  the  remonstrances  of  the  good-natured  mare'chale 
were  fruitless,  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  pardon  a  man 
who  had  so  openly  outraged  my  friendship. 

Directly  I  saw  the  king,  I  related  the  whole  affair  to 
him. 

<(It  must  be  confessed,"  said  he,  "that  the  duke  has 
behaved  very  ill  towards  you,  but  he  has  certainly  shown 
his  taste  as  far  as  regards  Sophie.  She  is  a  sweet  crea- 
ture. » 

(<  Ah!  you  are  all  alike, *  cried  I.  <(You  gentlemen  think 
a  pretty  face  an  excuse  for  every  fault ;  and  he  only  de- 
serves blame  who  can  attach  himself  where  beauty  is  want- 
ing.» 

<(  Because  he  is  a  simpleton  for  so  doing, w  said  Louis 
XV.  with  the  utmost  gravity,  giving  me  at  the  same  time 
an  affectionate  embrace. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

The  prince  des  Deux  Fonts  —  Prince  Max  —  The  dauphin  and  Marie 
Antoinette  —  The  comtesse  du  Barry  and  Bridget  Rupert — The 
countess  and  Genevieve  Mathon  —  Noel  —  Fresh  amours  —  Nocturnal 
adventure  —  Conclusion  of  this  intrigue. 

ALL  MY  friends  were  not  treacherous  as  the  due  de 
Villeroi;  and  I  may  gratefully  assert  I  have  pos- 
sessed many  true  and  sincere  ones  who  have 
ever  faithfully  adhered  to  my  fortunes.  One  in  partic- 
ular I  shall  mention  here,  that  I  may  recommend  him 
to  your  warmest  esteem;  for,  although  of  high  and  dis- 
tinguished rank,  he  did  not  despise  the  good  opinion  of 
the  meanest  citizen.  I  speak  of  the  prince  des  Deux 
Pontc,  Charles  Auguste  Christian.  This  prince,  who 
chanced  to  visit  France  during  the  zenith  of  my  court 
favour,  was  very  desirous  of  seeing  me,  and  both  he  and  his 
brother  were  presented  to  me  by  the  comte  de  la  Marche, 
their  friend,  and  they  quickly  requested  the  honour  of 
my  friendship.  Auguste  Christian  pleased  me  most  by 
his  gentle  and  amiable  manners,  although  most  persons 
gave  the  preference  to  his  brother,  Maximilian  Joseph, 
better  known  by  the  name  of  prince  Max.  Auguste  Chris- 
tian, in  the  fervour  of  his  attachment,  speaking  openly 
to  me  of  the  delicacy  of  the  situation,  proposed  to  me, 
in  case  of  any  reverse,  that  I  should  seek  ap  asylum  in 
his  dominions ;  and  I  must  do  him  the  justice  to  say,  that 
at  the  death  of -the  king,  far  from  forgetting  his  proffer, 
he  lost  no  time  in  reminding  me  of  it.  Fidelity  and  at- 
tachment such  as  his,  is  sufficiently  rare  to  merit  a  place 
in  my  journal.  The  prince  des  Deux  Ponts  was  pre- 
sumptive heir  to  an  immense  inheritance,  that  of  the 
electorate  of  Bavaria,  and  the  electorate  Palatine,  to  the 

(223) 


224  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

latter  of  which  he  was  direct  heir  after  the  decease  of 
his  cousin,  the  present  elector.  I  could  almost  wish  that 
he  had  already  succeeded  to  these  possessions:  he  can 
never  reign  too  soon  for  the  happiness  of  his  subjects. 

Prince  Max  had  served  in  France;  he  was  extremely 
well  looked  upon  at  court  both  by  the  king  and  the  prin- 
cesses. As  for  the  dauphiness,  prejudiced  against  him 
as  she  was  by  her  mother,  she  naturally  regarded  him 
with  an  eye  of  cool  mistrust,  and  manifested  her  open 
dislike  by  never  inviting  him  to  any  of  her  parties.  Prince 
Max  spoke  of  this  pointed  neglect  to  the  king,  who  im- 
mediately summoned  the  dauphin.  <(  My  son, "  said  he  to 
him,  *  I  see  with  regret  that  prince  Max  is  never  an  in- 
vited guest  at  any  of  your  balls  and  fetes.  Remember, 
he  belongs  to  a  family  which  has  been  our  most  ancient 
ally,  and  do  not  take  up  the  quarrels  of  a  house  which, 
until  your  marriage,  has  ever  been  disposed  in  deadly 
hatred  to  us. w 

If  the  dauphin  was  not  gifted  with  a  very  extensive 
capacity,  he  was  possessed  of  sufficient  plain  sense  to  com- 
prehend, and  to  enter  into  the  views  of  his  grandfather, 
to  whom  he  pledged  his  word,  that  henceforward  prince 
Max  should  be  treated  with  more  respect;  and  he  kept 
his  word,  for  the  instant  he  returned  to  his  apartments, 
he  commanded  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon  to  add  the  name 
of  prince  Max  to  the  list  of  invited  persons.  When  the 
paper  was  drawn  out  it  was  carried  to  the  dauphiness, 
who  was  with  her  husband.  She  read  on  till  she  came 
to  the  name  of  prince  Max,  which  she  desired  might  be 
erased;  but  the  dauphin  interfered.  <(  Oblige  me,"  cried 
he,  (<  by  suffering  this  name  to  remain ;  his  ancestors  have 
for  ages  been  the  friends  of  our  family,  and  his  alliance 
may  one  day  be  useful  to  us  in  Germany.* 

The  dauphiness  comprehended  the  signification  of  these 
words,  and  her  fine  eyes  were  filled  with  tears.  How- 
ever, she  no  longer  insisted  upon  the  erasure,  when  her 
husband,  who  most  tenderly  loved  her,  further  declared 
it  to  be  the  king's  desire  that  nothing  should  be  done 
which  could  in  any  way  displease  the  prince  des  Deux 
Ponts.  He  was,  therefore,  from  that  period  invited  to 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  225 

the  house  of  Marie  Antoinette,  who  indemnified  herself 
for  this  compulsory  civility,  by  refusing  to  bestow  upon 
him  one  single  smile  or  gracious  word.  It  must  indeed 
be  agreed  that  the  dauphiness  had  brought  with  her  into 
France  too  many  Austrian  notions,  which  she  was  long 
in  losing  for  those  of  a  wife  and  mother;  but  now  at  the 
moment  of  my  writing  this,  she  is  much  changed,  and  is 
as  true  a  French  woman  as  though  she  had  been  born 
and  bred  in  Paris.  Unfortunately,  the  people  appear 
slow  in  giving  her  credit  for  her  altered  opinions,  and 
to  this  mistake  will  she  owe  the  loss  of  that  general  love 
and  popularity  to  which  she  has  such  just  claims. 

Prince  Auguste  Christian  entertained  for  me  a  sincere 
regard,  which  I  returned  with  the  truest  friendship.  My 
feelings  were  as  pure  and  simple  as  his  own,  spite  of  the 
odious  calumnies  with  which  my  enemies  have  attacked 
this  harmless  acquaintance;  but  their  slander  in  this 
matter  was  no  worse  than  the  manner  in  which  they 
spoke  of  every  person  who  visited  me.  According  to 
their  report,  I  was  the  mistress  of  all  who  presented 
themselves.  'Tis  well  for  you,  ye  courtly  dames,  that 
you  may  convert  friends  into  lovers  with  impunity;  be 
the  number  ever  so  large  none  dares  arraign  your  conduct ; 
but  for  those  of  more  humble  pretensions  it  is  indeed 
considered  atrocious  to  number  more  than  two  admirers; 
should  we  ask  to  swell  the  list  to  a  third — what  com- 
ments, what  scandal,  what  vilifying  reports  are  in  circu- 
lation ! 

In  this  letter,  my  friend,  I  shall  speak  to  you  ex- 
clusively of  myself.  You  will  find  little  in  my  conduct 
to  praise,  and  I  fear,  much  to  blame.  You  will  easily 
perceive  my  heart  was  better  than  my  head;  and  dear 
as  your  opinion  is  to  me,  I  write  on  in  the  hope,  that 
should  my  candid  avowal  lose  me  any  portion  of  your 
esteem,  it  will  yet  obtain  me  a  larger  share  of  your 
friendship. 

The   dismissal   of   Sophie    from   my   service   occasioned 

a  vacancy  in  my  household.     Immediately  her  departure 

was   known,    I  received   numberless  solicitations  from  all 

who  heard  of  it.    Three  days  afterwards,   Henriette  came 

15 


226  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

to  inform  me  that  the  wife  of  an  attorney  of  Chatelet 
solicited  the  task  of  serving  me  in  Sophie's  stead;  that 
she  was  a  well-looking  and  respectable  person,  and  might 
very  probably  suit  me. 

*  Will  you  see  her,  madam?  *  continued  Henriette.   "  She 
is  recommended   by  the   marchioness  de   Montmorency.  * 

"Willingly,*  answered  I;  *  desire  her  to  come  in." 
Henriette  left  me  and  quickly  returned,  introducing  the 
new  candidate. 

At  the  first  glimpse  I  recognised  Brigitta  Rupert,  that 
haughty  girl,  who  had  been  my  early  friend  and  com- 
panion at  Saint  Aure,  but  who  found  it  impossible  to 
continue  her  friendship  and  favour  to  a  humble  milliner's 
girl.  The  sight  of  her  occasioned  me  a  surprise  by  no 
means  of  a  pleasing  nature;  and  the  involuntary  start  I 
gave,  evidently  recalled  me  to  her  recollection.  In  a 
moment  her  cheeks  assumed  the  paleness  of  death,  and 
her  self-love  seemed  to  suffer  the  most  horrible  torments 
at  the  light  in  which  our  rencontre  mutually  placed  us. 
As  soon  as  she  could  command  herself  sufficiently  to 
speak,  she  cried, 

*  Ah !  madam,  do  I  then  appear  in  your  presence  ? * 
"Yes,*  replied  I,   "before  the  poor  and  humble  milliner 

to  whom  you   so  harshly  refused  your  friendship !  * 

"  Fortune  has  well  avenged  you,  madam,*  said  Brigitta, 
in  a  melancholy  tone ;  <(  and  as  I  can  easily  imagine  how 
unpleasant  the  sight  of  me  must  be,  I  will  hasten  to  re- 
lieve you  from  it.* 

These  last  words  touched  me,  and  restored  me  in  a  de- 
gree to  my  natural  good  temper. 

<(  Brigitta,  *  said  I  to  her,  <(  after  the  little  affection  you 
have  ever  manifested  for  me,  it  would  be  impossible  as 
well  as  unwise  to  take  you  into  my  service;  but  let  me 
know  in  what  way  I  can  best  promote  the  interest  of  your- 
self and  husband,  and  I  pledge  myself  to  accomplish  it 
for  you.* 

"  I  thank  you,  madam,  *  answered  she,  resuming  her 
accustomed  haughtiness,  <(  I  came  to  solicit  a  situation 
near  the  person  of  the  comtesse  du  Barry.  Since  that  is 
refused  me,  I  have  nothing  more  to  request.* 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  227 

<(  Be  it  as  you  please, w  replied  I.  Brigitta  made  a  low 
courtesy,  and  quitted  the  room. 

Henriette,  who  had  been  the  witness  of  this  scene,  ex- 
pressed her  apprehensions  that  I  should  be  displeased 
with  her  for  introducing  an  unwelcome  visitor  to  me. 

((  No,  *  cried  I,  (<  'tis  not  with  you  I  am  vexed,  but  myself. >J 

(<  And  why  so,  dear  madam  ?  w 

<(  Because  I  reproach  myself  with  having  in  my  own 
prosperity  forgotten  one  of  my  earliest  and  dearest  friends, 
who  loved  me  with  the  tenderest  affection.  Possibly  she 
may  now  be  in  trouble  or  difficulties,  from  which  I  might 
have  a  thousand  ways  of  relieving  her ;  but  it  is  never  too 
late  to  do  good.  To-morrow,  early,  you  shall  set  out  for 
Paris;  when  there,  go  to  the  rue  Saint  Martin,  inquire 
for  the  sign  of  la  Bonne  Foi;  it  is  kept  by  a  pastrycook, 
named  M.  Mathon,  of  whom  I  wish  you  to  learn  every 
particular  relative  to  his  daughter  Genevieve." 

My  wishes  were  laws  to  Henriette,  who  instantly  re- 
tired to  prepare  for  her  journey.  I  had  not  ventured  to 
desire  her  to  glean  any  information  concerning  the  brother 
of  Genevieve,  and  yet  at  the  recollection  of  the  handsome 
Nicolas  my  heart  beat  impetuously.  With  what  impa- 
tience did  I  await  the  return  of  Henriette !  at  length  she 
came. 

«Well!)>  said  I. 

<(  I  have  found  out  M.  Mathon,8  answered  Henriette. 

«  Which,  the  father  ?  » 

(<  Yes,  madam.  * 

<(  And  what  is  his  present  occupation  ? w 

<(  As  usual,  madam,  superintending  his  kitchen  and  shop. w 

(<  Is  he  alone  in  his  business  ? w 

(<  Oh,  no!  madam;  he  is  assisted  by  his  son,  a  fine  dark 
handsome  young  man.* 

<(  His  son  then  lives  with  him  ? " 

<(  Yes,  madam,  and  he  is  married. w 

"Married!  —  but  it  is  not  of  this  young  man  I  wish 
to  speak,  but  of  his  sister,  of  Genevieve;  tell  me  of 
her.» 

*  I  only  learned,  madam,  that  she  had  married  a  tailor, 
named  Gue"rard ;  who,  after  having  been  very  unsuccessful 


228  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

in  business,   died  suddenly,   leaving  her   wholly  destitute 
with  two  young  children.* 

I  immediately  wrote  the  following  note  to  my  early 
friend :  — 

<(  The  comtesse  du  Barry  having  heard  of  the  misfortunes  of  madame 
Guerard,  and  knowing  how  much  she  is  deserving  of  a  better  fate, 
is  desirous  of  being  useful  to  her.  She  therefore  requests  madame 
Guerard  will  call  next  Monday,  at  two  o'clock,  on  her  at  her  hotel,  rue 
de  la  Pussienne.* 

Poor  Genevieve  nearly  fainted  when  she  received  this 
note,  which  was  conveyed  to  her  by  a  footman  wearing  my 
livery.  She  could  not  imagine  to  whom  she  was  indebted 
for  procuring  her  such  exalted  patronage,  and  she  and 
her  family  spent  the  intervening  hours  before  her  ap- 
pointed interview  in  a  thousand  conjectures  on  the 
subject.  On  Monday,  punctually  at  two  o'clock,  she  was 
at  the  hotel  dressed  in  her  best,  her  lovely  countenance 
setting  off  the  humble  style  of  even  her  holiday  garb. 
She  knew  me  the  instant  she  saw  me ;  and,  in  the  frank 
simplicity  of  her  own  heart  imagining  she  could  judge 
of  mine,  she  ran  to  me,  and  threw  herself  into  my  arms, 
exclaiming, 

<(Oh,  my  dear  Jeannette,  what  pleasure  does  it  afford 
me  to  meet  you  again.  Oh !  I  see  how  it  is ;  you  are  the 
friend  of  the  comtesse  du  Barry,  and  it  is  to  you  I  shall 
owe  my  future  good  fortune,  as  I  do  this  present  mark 
of  her  favor.* 

<(  No,  my  good  Genevieve, w  cried  I,  weeping  for  joy, 
<(  she  who  now  embraces  you  is  the  comtesse  du  Barry. w 

After  we  had  a  little  recovered  ourselves,  I  took  my 
friend  by  the  hand,  and  led  her  to  a  sofa,  where  we 
seated  ourselves  side  by  side.  Returning  to  the  scenes 
of  our  early  youth,  I  related  to  Genevieve  all  that  had 
occurred  since  —  my  adventures,  faults,  and  favour. 
When  I  had  concluded  my  recital,  Genevieve  commenced 
hers,  but  it  was  soon  told.  There  'is  little  to  relate  in 
the  life  of  a  woman  who  has  passed  her  days  in  the 
virtuous  discharge  of  her  duties. 

Our  mutual  confidences  being  over,  and  having  again 
exchanged  a  most  affectionate  embrace,  I  put  into  the 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  229 

hands  of  my  companion  a  portfolio,  containing  30,000 
livres  in  bank  bills.  I  promised  her  likewise  to  obtain 
for  her  some  lucrative  situation.  <(Do  more  than  this 
for  me !  *  cried  Genevieve.  <(  Since  you  will  still  grant 
me  your  friendship,  secure  for  me  the  happiness  of  oc- 
casionally meeting  you.  I  can  with  truth  declare,  that 
of  all  your  proofs  of  kindness  and  regard,  that  which  I 
prefer  is  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.* 

This  ingenuous  request  touched  my  heart,  and  I  replied 
to  it  by  fondly  caressing  the  warm-hearted  Genevieve, 
and  assuring  her  that  my  purse  and  my  house  should  be 
ever  open  to  her.  We  then  resumed  our  interesting  rem- 
iniscences, and  Genevieve  was  the  first  to  speak  of  her 
brother.  At  the  name  of  Nicolas  I  felt  the  blood  mount 
to  my  very  forehead,  and  an  indefinable  sensation  passed 
over  me  at  the  mention  of  him  who  had  possessed  my 
virgin  love.  I  strove,  however,  to  conceal  from  my -friend 
the  powerful  emotion  which  agitated  me,  and  I  replied, 
with  apparent  tranquillity,  that  I  should  be  happy  to  assist 
her  brother  with  the  best  of  my  credit  .and  influence; 
and  I  kept  my  word  by  obtaining  for  him,  at  the  solici- 
tation of  his  sister,  some  lucrative  situation,  the  exact 
nature  of  which  I  do  not  now  recollect,  where  they  re- 
sided together  in  ease  and  comfort.  I  had  only  to  recom- 
mend them  to  the  notice  of  M.  de  Boulogne,  who  felt 
himself  much  flattered  at  being  selected  by  me  to  make 
the  fortunes  of  my  two  friends. 

From  this  time  Genevieve  visited  me  as  frequently  as 
she  could,  and  her  society  delighted  me;  whilst,  in  her 
conversation  I  found  a  frankness  and  sincerity  which  I 
had  vainly  sought  for  at  court.  She  had  loved  me  when 
a  simple  milliner,  and  she  cherished  the  same  fond  re- 
gard for  me  in  my  improved  situation.  Her  friendship 
has  not  forsaken  me  in  my  reverses;  and  I  feel  quite 
assured  that  death  only  will  dissolve  the  tender  friend- 
ship which  still  subsists  between  us.  As  for  her  brother, 
he  spared  me  much  shame  and  confusion  by  never  seek- 
ing my  presence ;  a  meeting  with  him  would  indeed  have 
overwhelmed  me  with  painful  recollections. 

And  now,  my  friend,   I  am  about  to  relate  to  you  an 


230  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

adventure,  the  bare  mention  of  which  covers  my  cheek 
with  guilty  blushes;  fain  would  I  conceal  it  from  you, 
but  my  promise  is  given  to  lay  my  whole  heart  before 
you,  and  it  shall  be  done,  cost  what  it  may. 

I  know  not  why  it  should  ever  have  been  permitted 
you  gentlemen  to  frame  laws,  which,  while  they  permit 
you,  in  the  gratification  of  your  passions,  to  descend  ever 
so  low  in  the  scale  of  society  without  any  disgrace  at- 
taching itself  to  you  from  the  obscure  condition  of  the 
object  of  your  search,  to  us  females  it  is  prohibited,  un- 
der penalty  of  incurring  the  utmost  degradation,  to 
gratify  the  inclination  of  our  hearts  when  awakened  by 
one  of  more  humble  rank  than  our  own.  A  great  lord 
may  love  a  kitchen  maid,  a  noble  duke,  like  M.  de  Vil- 
leroi,  may  indulge  his  fancy  for  a  waiting-woman,  and 
yet  lose  no  portion  of  his  dignity,  or  of  the  esteem  in 
which  the  world  holds  him ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  woe 
to  the  high-born  dame  who  should  receive  the  homage 
of  an  obscure  citizen,  or  the  noble  countess  who  should 
lend  a  favourable  ear  to  the  sighs  of  her  valet  de  chambre ; 
the  public  voice  would  loud  and  angrily  inveigh  against 
so  flagrant  a  breach  of  decorum.  And  why  should  this 
be  ?  But,  my  friend,  do  you  not  see  in  my  seeking  to  de- 
fend so  weak  a  cause  sufficient  intimation  that  such  a 
justification  involves  a  consciousness  of  requiring  it  ? 
Alas!  I  plead  guilty,  and  will  no  longer  delay  the  pain- 
ful confession  I  have  to  make. 

Do  you  remember  a  singularly  handsome  young  man, 
who,  during  my  abode  with  madame  Lagarde,  fascinated 
me  till  my  very  senses  seemed  bewildered  by  my  passion. 
You  know  how  he  betrayed  me,  and  how,  through  him, 
I  was  expelled  the  house,  as  well  as  the  termination  of 
this  foolish  adventure.  You  are  now  to  pass  over  seven 
or  eight  years,  and  take  your  place  with  me  in  the  draw- 
ing-room, in  which  I  stood  when  I  rang  to  summon  a 
servant  to  convey  a  letter  to  the  due  de  Villeroi.  You 
may  remember  what  I  told  you  in  the  last  chapter  of  the 
person  who  entered,  of  his  agitation  and  his  blushes,  and 
of  his  fixing  his  eyes  with  deep  meaning  upon  me  till 
he  quitted  the  room  —  this  servant  was  Noel! 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  231 

Had  I  listened  to  the  dictates  of  prudence,  I  should, 
without  loss  of  time,  have  obtained  against  him  a  lettre 
de  cachet,  which  would  have  freed  me  from  all  chance  of 
discovery  through  his  means;  but  I  could  not  listen  to 
such  cool-blooded,  though  cautious,  suggestions.  One 
idea  only  took  possession  of  my  mind  —  the  absurd  desire 
to  know  what  had  become  of  Noel  since  we  separated, 
and  by  what  accident  I  now  found  him  wearing  my  livery 
\n  the  castle.  With  this  intent  I  availed  myself  of  the 
first  moment  I  was  secure  from  interruption,  to  summon 
him  to  my  presence.  He  threw  himself  at  my  feet,  im- 
ploring of  me  to  pardon  his  audacity.  (<  Alas,  madam ! " 
said  he,  {<  I  am  more  unfortunate  than  guilty.  I  saw 
you  walking  some  time  since,  and  I  could  obtain  no  rest 
or  peace  till  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  obtain  admission 
to  your  establishment.  Punish  me  for  my  temerity  if 
you  will;  expel  me  from  the  castle,  have  me  confined  in 
a  prison,  I  deserve  it  all ;  but,  voluntarily,  I  cannot  leave 
this  house ;  and  if  you  will  only  permit  my  stay,  I  solemnly 
vow  you  shall  see  nothing  in  my  conduct  but  the  zeal 
of  an  attached  and  respectful  servant.* 

I  was  weak  enough  to  pardon  Noel  and  shortly  after 
to  raise  him  to  the  rank  of  valet  de  chambre,  which  brought 
him  infinitely  too  much  about  me. 

Yes,  my  friend,  the  woman  is,  after  all  attempts  to 
excuse  it,  blamable  for  bestowing  her  affection  on  one 
below  herself  in  the  scale  of  society.  Nature  herself 
appears  to  have  planted  in  our  bosoms  a  kind  of  instinct, 
which  warns  us  from  it,  and  a  prejudice  against  all  those 
who  so  degrade  themselves.  It  is  different  with  men; 
they  can  confer  rank  and  elevation  on  the  beloved  object. 
A  woman  should  always  have  reason  to  look  up  to  and  feel 
proud  of  the  man  to  whom  she  consigns  her  heart;  this 
species  of  vanity  is  mixed  with  the  noblest  love,  and  the 
woman  who  can  overlook  it,  acts  from  passion  of  the 
lowest,  basest  kind.  How  easy  is  it  to  reason!  Alas!  why 
have  I  not  always  acted  as  well  as  I  speak. 

I  was  thus  again  a  second  time  enthralled  by  Noel, 
and  much  more  so,  too,  than  I  will  now  tell  you.  My 
faithful  Henriette,  whose  devoted  attachment  for  me  kept 


232  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

her  ever  watchful  of  my  safety  and  reputation,  was  thun- 
derstruck at  perceiving  what  I  vainly  strove  to  conceal 
from  her;  and,  as  she  has  since  told  me,  was  long  in 
deciding  whether  to  speak  to  me  of  the  affair,  when  an 
unexpected  incident  arose,  which  determined  her,  at  every 
risk  of  my  displeasure,  to  use  her  endeavors  to  put  an 
end  to  so  disgraceful  a  connexion,  which  must  infallibly 
have  ended  in  my  disgrace. 

One  night,  or  rather  midnight,  all  was  at  rest  in  the 
castle,  and  I  was  sleeping  peacefully  in  the  arms  of 
Noel,  when  all  at  once  I  was  awakened  by  the  sudden 
opening  of  an  outer  door,  which  announced  to  me  the 
approach  of  the  king,  who  had  merely  one  more  door  to 
open  ere  he  would  be  in  my  apartment.  Noel,  terrified, 
leaped  quickly  out  of  bed,  and  ran  to  seek  refuge  in  a 
small  chamber  adjoining  where  Henriette  slept.  Happily 
she  was  yet  awake;  and,  by  the  light  of  a  night-lamp  or 
veilleuse  recognized  Noel,  who,  with  clasped  hands,  con- 
jured her  to  take  pity  upon  him.  Henriette  saw  the 
danger,  and  putting  out  her  hand,  seized  him,  and  draw- 
ing him  rapidly  towards  her,  made  him  lie  down  beside 
her.  Noel,  struck  with  her  goodness,  was  preparing  to 
offer  her  the  same  marks  of  his  gratitude  he  had  shown 
me  of  his  respect;  but  repulsing  him,  she  said  in  a  low 
voice,  <(  Wretch,  think  not  it  is  on  your  account  I  thus 
expose  my  reputation;  'tis  to  save  that  of  my  beloved 
mistress;  either  conduct  yourself  with  silent  respect  or 
you  are  lost. *  At  this  threat  Noel's  courage  melted  away 
and  he  lay  still  as  a  frightened  child.  "Listen,*  said 
Henriette,  (<if  you  do  not  quit  this  place  to-morrow  at 
break  of  day,  without  seeking  to  see  madame  again,  I 
will  denounce  you  to  the  king,  who  will  inflict  upon  you 
the  most  dreadful  punishment.* 

Whilst  these  things  were  passing  in  the  chamber  of 
Henriette,  I  did  not  feel  perfectly  at  ease  on  my  side, 
and  many  were  the  wise  reflections  I  made  upon  my 
folly,  as  well  as  the  promises  I  gave  never  again  to  ex- 
pose myself  to  such  imminent  danger.  Nor  did  my 
terrors  abate  till  after  the  king  had  quitted  me.  At  the 
sound  of  my  bell  Henriette  hastened  to  my  bed-side. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  233 

(<  My  good  Henrietta,"  said  I  to  her,  trembling-  from 
head  to  foot,  (<  what  a  night  of  anxiety  have  I  passed,  I 
must  indeed  confess  —  " 

(<  Fear  not,  my  beloved  mistress, "  replied  she ;  (<  I  will 
watch  over  your  safety,  and  trust  to  be  enabled  fully  to 
provide  for  it." 

I  durst  not  then  ask  for  any  further  explanation  of 
her  words,  for  such  was  the  ascendancy  her  good  and  steady 
conduct  had  given  her  over  me,  that  she  would  certainly 
have  blamed  me  for  my  glaring  imprudence.  I  pressed 
her  hand  in  mute  thankfulness;  she  comprehended  my 
silence  and  left  me  to  myself. 

At  the  end  of  some  days,  seeing  nothing  of  Noel,  I 
ventured  to  question  her  as  to  his  fate :  she  then  related 
to  me  all  you  have  been  told,  and  added,  that  the  day 
following  this  shameful  and  unfortunate  night  she  had 
lost  no  time  in  apprizing  the  comte  Jean  of  all  that  had 
occurred,  who  had  quickly  despatched  Noel  out  of  the 
kingdom,  furnishing  him  with  a  purse  of  ten  thousand 
livres  to  defray  his  travelling  expenses.  Such  was  the 
fortunate  termination  of  this  disgraceful  affair;  and  now, 
having  completed  my  painful  confession,  I  will  change 
the  subject  to  others  doubtless  more  calculated  to  interest 
you  than  the  recital  of  such  lapses. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

Madame  du  Barry  succeeds  in  alienating  Louis  XV.  from  the  due  de 
Choiseul — Letter  from  madame  de  Grammont  —  Louis  XV. — The 
chancellor  and  the  countess  —  Louis  XV.  and  the  abbe  de  la  Ville 
—  The  marechale  de  Mirepoix  and  madame  du  Barry. 

MATTERS  now  assumed  an  air  of  importance.  My  strug- 
gle with  the  des  Choiseuls  had  become  a  deadly 
war,  which  could  only  be  terminated  either  by  his 
downfall  or  my  dismissal  from  court;  this  latter  measure 
was  not  very  probable ;  an  old  man  is  not  easily  detached 
from  a  woman  whom  he  loves,  and  each  day  only  added 
to  my  ascendancy  over  the  mind  of  the  king.  It  is  true, 
that  the  same  force  of  habit  which  enchained  Louis  XV. 
to  me  bound  him  likewise  to  M.  de  Choiseul.  The  idea 
of  change  terrified  him;  and  so  great  was  his  dread  of 
fresh  faces,  that  he  would  have  preferred  dying  with  his 
old  minister,  to  creating  a  younger  one  who  might  witness 
his  end.  Happily  the  duke  himself  brought  on  the  crisis 
of  his  fate ;  his  power  was  cramped  on  all  sides,  yet,  re- 
solved not  to  lay  it  down  till  the  last  extremity,  he  sought 
to  stay  his  failing  credit  with  the  rising  influence  of  the 
dauphiness.  .  His  enemies  were  not  slow  in  pointing  out 
to  the  king  his  minister's  frequent  visits  and  great  assi- 
duities to  a  foreign  princess,  and  enlarged  upon  the  fatal 
effects  this  new  alliance  might  produce  to  the  monarchy. 
Meanwhile  the  chancellor,  threatened  by  the  parlia- 
ments, saw  only  one  way  of  averting  the  storm  which 
was  about  to  burst  on  his  head.  This  was  to  introduce 
into  the  cabinet  persons  entirely  devoted  to  himself;  but 
to  accomplish  his  purpose,  it  was  necessary  to  exclude  the 
due  de  Choiseul  and  his  party.  M.  de  Maupeou  came  to 
me  in  December,  and  after  having  gently  scolded  me  for 
(234) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  235 

what  he  termed  my  carelessness,  he  showed  me  a  letter 
from  the  duchesse  de  Grammont,  which,  he  said,  would 
wonderfully  aid  our  plans.  This  letter  was  written  to 
one  of  the  presidents  of  the  parliament  of  Toulouse,  M. 

de .     I  cannot  give  you  his  name ;   for,  although   I 

have  preserved  the  original  of  the  letter,  I  have  mislaid 
the  envelope  on  which  the  address  was  written.  I  here 
give  you  a  copy  of  this  curious  and  important  produc- 
tion :  — 

<(  MONSIEUR  LE  PRESIDENT, —  I  promised  to  give  you  the  exact  de- 
tails of  all  that  passed  in  this  gay  metropolis,  and  'tis  with  much 
pleasure  I  sit  down  to  fulfill  my  engagement.  Things  go  on  much 
as  usual,  or,  perhaps,  I  should  be  speaking  more  correctly,  were  I 
to  say,  they  are  rapidly  progressing  from  bad  to  worse.  We  have 
no  longer  a  king  in  France;  all  power  is  lodged  in  the  hands  of  one 
sprung  from  the  most  infamous  origin;  who,  in  conjunction  with 
others  as  intriguing  as  herself,  seeks  only  to  ruin  the  kingdom,  and 
to  degrade  it  in  the  eyes  of  other  nations. 

«The  noble  firmness  of  sovereign  courts  is  odious  to  people  of  this 
class;  thus  you  may  imagine  the  detestation  in  which  they  regard 
the  candid  and  loyal  conduct  of  the  duke.  In  the  hopes  of  procuring 
the  dismissal  of  my  brother,  they  have  chosen  for  his  successor  a 
wretch  loaded  with  crimes,  a  coward,  an  extortioner,  a  murderer  — 
the  due  d'Aiguillon.  As  for  you  gentlemen,  who  now  constitute  our 
parliament,  your  places  will  soon  be  filled  by  a  magistracy  drawn 
from  the  dregs  of  society;  a  troop  of  slaves,  deaf  and  blind,  except 
as  he  who  pays  them  best  will  have  them  exercise  those  powers. 

«This  is  no  time  for  indolent  repose;  we  must  at  once  courage- 
ously and  unanimously  defeat  the  guilty  schemes  of  our  enemies.  So 
long  as  my  brother  retains  his  present  post  he  will  support  you  with 
his  best  interest;  but,  should  he  be  dismissed,  your  business  will  soon 
be  finished. 

«  I  beg  my  best  remembrances,  first,  to  your  excellent  lady,  and 
after  her,  to  madame  B.  and  madame  L.,  not  forgetting  the  mar- 
quise de  Chalret,  whose  wit  is  truly  Attic;  nor  the  marquise  de  P — s, 
who  conceals  beneath  the  graceful  exterior  of  a  Languedocian  the 
soul  of  one  of  Corneille's  Roman  matrons.  For  yourself  rely  upon 
my  warmest  friendship  and  endeavours  to  serve  you.  My  brother  is 
most  anxious  to  know  you,  after  the  flattering  manner  in  which  I 
have  mentioned  you  to  him.  When  will  you  gratify  us  both  by  vis- 
iting Paris  ?  Ever  yours,* 

Nothing  could  have  arrived  more  h.  propos  for  our  pur- 
pose than  this  letter.  I  was  still  engaged  in  its  perusal 


236  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

when  the  king  was  announced ;  I  wished  to  hurry  it  back 
into  the  hands  of  M.  de  Maupeou;  but  he,  more  crafty 
than  I,  requested  I  would  keep  it. 

<(  It  is  fitting, w  said  he,  <(  that  it  should  be  seen  by  the 
right  person. w 

Louis  XV.,  astonished  at  the  strange  scene,  inquired 
what  it  meant. 

<(A  most  shameful  piece  of  scandal,  sire,*  replied  I. 

<(  An  .infamous  epistle, w  added  the  chancellor,  "which 
one  of  my  friends  managed  to  abstract  from  the  post- 
office,  and  forwarded  to  me:  I  brought  it  to  madame 
la  comtesse,  that  she  might  admire  the  determined  malice 
of  our  enemies. M 

w  You  excite  my  curiosity,  *  cried  Louis  XV.  <(  Madame, 
have  the  kindness  to  allow  me  to  see  this  paper.* 

"Indeed,  sire,"  exclaimed  I,  "I  know  not  whether  I 
ought  to  obey  your  majesty,  so  entirely  has  the  writer 
of  the  letter  forgotten  the  respect  due  to  'your  sacred 
person. w 

<(  Oh,  *  said  the  king,  <(  do  not  fear  that ;  I  am  but  too 
well  used  to  the  offence  to  feel  astonishment  at  its  oc- 
currence. w 

I  placed  the  paper  in  the  hand  of  Louis  XV.,  whose 
eye  easily  recognised  the  handwriting  of  madame  de 
Grammont.  <(  Ah,  ah !  w  cried  he,  (<  is  it  so  ?  let  us  see 
what  this  restless  lady  has  to  say  of  us  all."  I  watched 
the  countenance  of  the  king  as  he  read,  and  saw  the 
frown  that  covered  it  grow  darker  and  darker;  nevertheless 
he  continued  to  read  on  without  comment  till  he  had 
reached  the  end;  then  sitting  down  and  looking  full  at 
the  chancellor,  he  exclaimed, 

"Well,  M.  de  Maupeou,  and  what  do  you  think  of  this 
business  ? }> 

"  I  am  overwhelmed  with  consternation,  sire, }>  replied 
he,  <(when  I  think  that  one  of  your  majesty's  ministers 
should  be  able  to  conspire  thus  openly  against  you.w 

"  Stay, w  cried  Louis  hastily,  <(  that  fact  is  by  no  means 
proved.  The  duchesse  de  Grammont  is  a  mad  woman, 
who  involves  the  safety  of  her  brother;  if  I  only  believed 
him  capable  of  such  treachery,  he  should  sleep  this  night 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  237 

in  the  Bastille,  and  to-morrow  the  necessary  proceedings 
should  be  commenced  against  him:  as  for  his  sister,  I 
will  take  care  of  her  within  four  good  walls,  and  avenge 
myself  for  her  past  misconduct,  by  putting  it  out  of  her 
power  to  injure  me  further." 

"Sire,*  said  I,  in  my  turn,  a  remember  she  is  a  woman; 
I  beseech  you  to  pardon  her,  and  let  the  weight  of  your 
just  indignation  fall  upon  her  brother." 

(<  Chancellor, "  cried  the  king,  (<  this  business  must  not 
be  lightly  passed  over." 

"  Nor  without  due  consideration, "  replied  M.  de  Maupeou, 
<(your  majesty  may  look  upon  this  letter  as  the  basis  of 
a  secret  plot :  as  for  the  duchess,  I  am  of  my  cousin's 
opinion;  despise  her  audacious  attempts,  but  spare  not 
her  brother;  he  alone  is  the  guilty  as  well  as  dangerous 
person. " 

The  king  made  no  answer,  but  rose,  and  crushing  the 
letter  in  his  hand,  threw  it  from  him. 

"Would,"  exclaimed  he  at  last,  (<that  the  fiends  had 
those  who  take  such  delight  in  disgusting  me  with  my 
very  existence.  Heavens!  how  justly  may  I  say  I  de- 
spise all  men;  nor  have  I  a  much  better  opinion  of  your 
sex,  madame  la  comtesse,  I  must  warn  you." 

(<  Much  obliged,  sire,"  cried  I;  (< really  I  was  not  pre- 
pared for  such  gallantry.  It  is  rather  hard  that  you  should 
quarrel  with  me  because  this  disagreeable  duchess  behaves 
ill!  Upon  my  word  it  is  very  unpleasant!  " 

<(  Come,  come, "  said  Louis  XV. ,  kissing  my  cheek, 
« don't  you  be  a  naughty  child;  if  I  had  not  you,  where 
should  I  turn  for  consolation  amidst  the  torments  by  which 
I  am  surrounded  ?  Shall  I  tell  you  ?  In  the  midst  of  all 
these  perplexing  affairs,  there  are  moments  in  which  I 
fear  I  may  not  be  promoting  the  happiness  of  my  peo- 
ple." 

"Your  majesty  is  greatly  mistaken,"  replied  the  chan- 
cellor ;  <(  the  nation  in  general  must  esteem  themselves 
most  happy  under  your  reign ;  but  it  will  always  happen 
that  ill-disposed  persons  seek  to  pervert  the  public  opinion, 
and  to  lead  men's  minds  astray.  The  duchess,  when 
travelling,  was  the  faithful  and  active  agent  of  her  brother. 


238  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

The  duke,  to  secure  his  stay  in  the  ministry,  will  eagerly 
avail  himself  of  every  adventitious  aid ;  within  your  king- 
dom he  seeks  the  support  of  the  parliaments  and  philos- 
ophers; without,  he  claims  the  succour  of  Germany  and 
Spain.  Your  majesty  is  certainly  master  of  your  own 
will,  and  it  would  ill  become  me  to  point  out  the  path 
you  should  tread;  but  my  duty  compels  me  to  say,  that 
the  due  de  Choiseul  is  the  greatest  enemy  of  the  royal 
house :  of  this  he  gave  me  a  convincing  proof  in  the  case 
of  your  august  son;  and  now,  if  he  fancied  he  should 
find  it  more  advantageous  to  have  the  dauphin  for  his 
master  —  w 

*  Chancellor   of   France, >J    cried   Louis,    much   agitated, 
<(  do  you  know  what  you  are  asserting  ? w 

(<The  truth,  sire,w  I  exclaimed.  <(  The  public  voice 
accuses  the  due  de  Choiseul  of  the  death  of  your  son; 
they  declare  —  w 

<(  How!  you,  too,  madam!  }>  exclaimed  the  king  looking 
at  me  fixedly. 

(<  And  why  not,  sire  ?  I  am  merely  repeating  what 
is  in  every  one's  mouth.  * 

*  I  have  heard    this  horrible  charge  before, w  added  the 
king ;   w  the   Jesuits  informed   me    of  it,  but   I   could   not 
give  credit  to  such  a  monstrosity. }> 

<(  So  much  the  worse, )J  replied  I ;  <(  in  the  world  in  which 
we  live  we  should  always  be  on  our  guard.  * 

<(  Sire,  *  added  the  chancellor,  with  the  most  diabolical 
address,  <(  I  am  persuaded  that  M.  de  Choiseul  is  the  most 
honourable  man  in  the  world,  and  that  he  would  shudder 
at  the  bare  idea  of  any  attempt  upon  the  life  of  your 
majesty;  but  his  relations,  friends,  and  creatures  believe, 
that,  supported  by  the  dauphiness,  he  would  continue  in 
office  under  your  successor.  Who  can  answer  for  their 
honour  ?  Who  can  assure  you,  that  some  one  among 
them  may  not  do  that  for  the  duke  which  he  would  never 
venture  to  attempt  himself  ? 

(<  This  is  the  personal  danger  your  majesty  runs  so  long 
as  M.  de  Choiseul  continues  in  office;  were  he  dismissed, 
the  world  would  soon  abandon  the  disgraced  minister,  and 
the  dauphiness  be  amongst  the  first  to  forget  him.* 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  239 

The  king  was  pale  with  agitation,  and  for  some  min- 
utes continued  traversing  the  apartment  with  hasty  strides ; 
then  he  suddenly  stopped, 

"You  are  then  convinced,  M.  de  Maupeou,"  cried  he, 
"  that  the  duke  is  leagued  with  the  parliaments  to  weaken 
my  authority  ? " 

"  There  are  palpable  proofs  to  that  effect, "  replied  the 
chancellor;  "your  majesty  may  recollect  the  skilful  man- 
ner in  which,  on  the  3d  of  last  September,  he  avoided 
attending  you  to  parliament;  most  assuredly,  had  he  not 
been  the  friend  of  rebels,  he  would  not  have  shrunk  from 
evincing  by  his  presence  how  fully  he  shared  your  just 
indignation.  * 

"That  is  but  too  true,"  cried  Louis  XV.;  "and  I  felt 
much  annoyed  at  the  time,  that  he  preferred  going  to 
amuse  himself  at  the  house  of  M.  de  Laborde,  when  his 
duty  summoned  him  to  my  side." 

"Your  majesty  cannot  fail  to  perceive  how  everything 
condemns  him ;  his  personal  conduct,  equally  with  that  of 
his  sister,  proves  how  little  he  regards  his  royal  master's 
interest;  and  should  your  clemency  resolve  upon  spar- 
ing him  now,  you  may  find  your  mercy  produce  fatal 
effects  to  yourself." 

"  His  dismissal,  *  resumed  the  king,  "  would  disorganize 
all  my  political  measures.  Who  could  I  put  in  his 
place  ?  I  know  no  one  capable  of  filling  it.  * 

"Your  majesty's  wisdom  must  decide  the  point,"  re- 
plied the  chancellor.  "  My  duty  is  to  lay  before  you 
the  true  state  of  things;  this  I  have  done,  and  I  know 
myself  well  enough  not  to  intrude  my  counsel  further. 
Nevertheless,  I  cannot  help  remarking,  that  in  your 
majesty's  court  there  are  many  as  capable  as  M.  de 
Choiseul  of  directing  affairs — M.  d'Aiguillon,  for  ex- 
ample. " 

"  Ah !  *  answered  Louis  XV. ;  "  this  is  not  the  moment, 
when  M.  d'Aiguillon  is  smarting  from  his  severe  contest 
with  the  long  robes,  to  elevate  him  over  the  head  of  my 
hitherto-esteemed  minister. " 

M.  de  Maupeou  and  myself  perceived  that  we  should 
best  serve  my  friend's  cause  by  refraining  from  pressing 


240  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

the  matter  further,  and  we  therefore  changed  the  con- 
versation. Nevertheless,  as  what  had  already  passed  had 
taken  its  full  effect  upon  the  king's  mind,  he  suggested 
an  idea  which  I  should  never  have  dreamed  of  recom- 
mending; and  that  was  to  consult  the  abbe"  de  la  Ville  on 
the  subject. 

The  abbe"  de  la  Ville,  head  clerk  of  foreign  affairs,  was 
a  man  who,  at  the  advanced  period  of  fourscore,  preserved 
all  the  fire  and  vivacity  of  youth ;  he  was  acquainted  with 
ministerial  affairs  even  better  than  M.  de  Choiseul  him- 
self. Having  formerly  belonged  to  the  Jesuits,  to  whom 
he  was  entirely  devoted,  he  had  appeared  to  accelerate 
the  period  of  their  destruction;  never  had  he  been  able 
to  pardon  his  patron  the  frightful  part  he  had  compelled 
him  to  enact  in  the  business.  Years  had  not  weakened 
his  ancient  rancour,  and  it  might  be  said,  that  he  had 
clung  to  life  with  more  than  .natural  pertinacity,  as  un- 
willing to  lay  it  down  till  he  had  avenged  himself  on 
de  Choiseul.  Louis  XV.  wrote  to  him,  desiring  he  would 
avail  himself  of  the  first  pretext  that  occurred  to  request 
an  audience.  This  note  was  forwarded  by  a  footman, 
the  good  abbe"  easily  divined  that  this  mystery  concealed 
some  great  design;  he  therefore  hastened  to  solicit  an 
audience  as  desired.  When  introduced  into  the  cabinet 
of  the  king,  his  majesty  inquired  at  once, 

<(  Monsieur  1'abbe",  can  I  depend  upon  your  discretion  ?  * 

*  Sire, w  replied  the  abbe",  with  a  blunt  frankness,  a  I  am 
sorry  your  majesty  can  doubt  it." 

"Be  satisfied,  sir,"  replied  the  king,  ®  I  had  no  intention 
to  offend  you;  but  I  wish  to  consult  you  upon  a  point, 
the  importance  of  which  you  will  fully  appreciate;  an- 
swer me  without  disguise.  Do  you  believe  that  the  ser- 
vices of  the  due  de  Choiseul  are  useful  to  my  kingdom, 
and  that  my  interests  would  suffer  were  I  to  dismiss 
him  ? » 

"Sire/  replied  M.  de  la  Ville,  without  hesitation, 
*  I  protest  to  you,  as  a  man  of  honour,  that  the  presence 
of  the  due  de  Choiseul  is  by  no  means  essential  to  the 
ministry,  and  that  your  majesty's  interests  would  sustain 
not  the  slightest  injury  by  his  absence.* 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  241 

After  this  the  abbe"  de  la  Ville  entered  into  particulars 
unnecessary  to  repeat  here;  it  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  all 
he  advanced  materially  aided  our  wishes.  He  afterwards 
reaped  the  reward  of  his  friendly  services,  for  when  the 
due  d'Aiguillon  had  displaced  the  due  de  Choiseul,  he 
bestowed  on  M.  de  la  Ville  the  title  of  director  of  foreign 
ajfairs,  an  office  created  for  him,  and  the  bishopric  in 
partibus  of  Tricomie.  The  good  abbe*  did  not,  however, 
long  enjoy  his  honours,  but  ended  his  career  in  1774. 

This  conversation  had  been  repeated  to  me;  and,  on  my 
side,  I  left  no  means  untried  of  preventing  Louis  XV. 
from  placing  further  confidence  in  his  minister ;  but,  feeble 
and  timid,  he  knew  not  on  what  to  determine,  content- 
ing himself  with  treating  the  duke  coolly;  he  sought,  by 
continual  rebuffs  and  denials  to  his  slightest  request,  to 
compel  him  to  demand  that  dismissal  he  had  not  the 
courage  to  give. 

Whilst  these  things  were  in  agitation,  madame  de  Mire- 
poix,  who  had  been  for  some  days  absent  from  Versailles, 
came  to  call  upon  me.  This  lady  possessed  a  considerable 
share  of  wit;  and,  although  on  the  most  intimate  terms 
with  me,  had  not  altogether  broken  off  with  the  des 
Choiseuls,  to  whom  she  was  further  bound  on  account  of 
the  prince  de  Beauvau,  her  brother.  It  therefore  excited 
in  me  no  surprise,  when  I  heard  that  the  des  Choiseuls 
had  called  on  her  to  ascertain,  whether  it  would  not  be 
possible,  through  her  mediation,  to  come  to  some  terms 
with  me. 

<(  And  you  must  not  be  angry  with  me, w  continued 
she,  «  for  undertaking  the  negotiation  ;  I  well  foresaw  all 
the  difficulties,  and  entertained  no  hopes  of  its  success, 
but  upon  second  thoughts,  I  considered  it  better  I  should 
accept  the  mission;  for,  in  case  of  a  negative  being  re- 
turned, it  will  be  safe  in  my  keeping,  and  I  will  not  add 
to  the  chagrin  of  a  failure  the  shame  of  a  defeat.* 

(<  It  is  my  opinion,"  replied  I,  "that  all  propositions 
coming  from  these  people  should  be  rejected;  they  have 
compelled  me  to  raise  between  them  and  myself  an  im- 
mense wall  of  hatred,  not  less  difficult  to  surmount  than 
the  grand  wall  of  China.* 
16 


242  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

"Yet,*  replied  the  mare'chale,  smiling,  <(  they  are  dis- 
posed to  pay  any  price  for  so  doing. * 

"I  have  friends, *  said  I,  (<  f rom  whom  I  can  never  sep- 
arate myself.* 

"They  are  willing  that  your  friends  shall  be  theirs 
likewise, *  cried  she,  (<  for  they  see  that  M.  de  Maupeou, 
the  due  de  la  Vrilliere,  and  the  abbe"  Terray,  are  provided 
for,  and  that  the  due  d'Aiguillon  alone  remains  to  be 
suitably  established;  M.  de  Choiseul  would  be  happy  to 
aid  him  in  obtaining  the  post  of  minister  of  naval  affairs. * 

"Well,  and  the  duchesse  de  Grammont,*  inquired  I, 
<(  would  she  visit  me  ?  * 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  I  know  nothing  about  it,  and  can  ven- 
ture no  opinion ;  my  commission  does  not  extend  so  far. * 

<(  I  understand  you,  *  said  I ;  "  she  seeks  for  peace  only 
as  it  would  enable  her  the  better  to  carry  on  her  hostilities 
against  me.  I  am  sorry,  madame  la  marechale,  that  I 
cannot  accept  your  terms  for  a  reconciliation.* 

<(  Remember,  I  pray  of  you,  that  I  have  been  an  am- 
bassadress, and  nothing  more,*  said  madame  de  Mirepoix; 
"  recollect  I  have  spoken  to  you  in  the  words  of  others, 
not  my  own.  I  must  beg  of  you  to  be  secret;  if 
you  divulge  the  particulars  of  this  morning's  con- 
versation, it  is  I  who  will  suffer  by  it:  your  friends  will 
be  displeased  with  me  for  my  interference;  and  I  have 
no  inclination  to  provoke  the  anger  of  a  party  so  power- 
ful as  yours.* 

I  promised  the  mare'chale  to  observe  an  inviolable 
secrecy;  and,  so  well  have  I  kept  my  promise,  that  you 
are  the  first  person  to  whom  I  ever  breathed  one  syllable 
of  the  affair.  I  must  own,  that  it  struck  me  as  strange, 
that  the  due  de  Choiseul  should  abandon  his  cousin,  and 
consent  to  take  his  seat  beside  the  due  d'Aiguillon,  whom 
he  detested:  perhaps  he  only  sought  to  deceive  us  all 
by  gaining  time,  till  the  death  of  the  king.  But  what 
avails  speculation  upon  the  words  and  actions  of  a  courtier, 
whose  heart  is  an  abyss  too  deep  for  gleam  of  light  to 
penetrate  ? 


CHAPTER     XXVI. 

Baron  d'Oigny,  general  post-master — The  king  and  the  countess  read 
the  opened  letters  —  Tlie  disgrace  of  de  Choiseul  resolved  upon  — 
Lettre  de  cachet  —  Anecdote  —  Spectre  of  Philip  II.,  king  of  Spain 
— The  due  de  Choiseul  banished  —  Visits  to  Chanteloup  —  The 
princesses  —  The  dauphin  and  dauphiness  —  Candidates  for  the 
ministry. 

THE  interference  of  madame  de  Mirepoix,  originating, 
as  it  did,  in  the  due  de  Choiseul,  let  me  at  once  into 
the  secret  of  his  fears  and  the  extent  of  my  own 
power.  The  knowledge  of  the  weakness  of  my  adversary 
redoubled  my  energy;  and  from  this  moment,  I  allowed 
no  day  to  pass  without  forwarding  the  great  work,  till  I 
succeeded  in  effecting  the  duke's  ruin  and  securing  my 
own  triumph.  The  pamphleteers  in  the  pay  of  my  ene- 
mies, and  those  who  merely  copied  these  hirelings,  assert 
that  one  evening  after  supper,  when  Louis  was  intoxi- 
cated with  wine  and  my  seductions,  I  prevailed  upon 
him  to  sign  a  lettre  de  cachet  against  his  minister,  which 
he  immediately  revoked  when  the  break  of  day  had  re- 
stored to  him  his  senses.  This  was  a  malicious  falsehood. 
You  shall  hear  the  exact  manner  in  which  the  lettres  de 
cachet  were  signed. 

On  the  evening  of  the  23d  of  December,  his  majesty 
having  engaged  to  sup  with  me,  I  had  invited  M.  de 
Maupeou,  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere,  and  the  prince  de 
Soubise.  It  appears,  that  the  king,  previously  to  com- 
ing, had  gone  to  visit  the  dauphiness;  he  had  not  men- 
tioned whither  he  was  going,  so  that  his  attendants  believed 
him  to  be  in  my  apartments,  and  directed  M.  d'Oigny, 
post-master  general  to  seek  him  there.  The  baron  brought 
with  him  a  packet  of  opened  letters;  when  he  saw  me 
alone  he  wished  to  retire,  for  the  servants,  believing  him 

(243) 


244  MEMOIRS   OP  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

to  be  one  of  the  expected  guests,  had  ushered  him  in. 
However,  I  would  not  permit  him  to  go  until  the  king's 
arrival;  and,  half  sportively,  half  seriously,  I  took  from 
him  his  letters,  protesting  I  would  detain  them  as  hostages 
for  his  obedience  to  my  desires.  At  this  moment  Louis 
XV.  entered  the  room;  and  M.  d'Oigny,  having  briefly 
stated  his  business,  bowed  and  departed.  The  baron  was 
a  very  excellent  man,  possessing  an  extensive  and  intel- 
ligent mind;  he  wrote  very  pleasing  poetry,  and  had  not 
his  attention  been  occupied  by  the  post  he  filled,  he  might 
have  made  a  conspicuous  figure  in  literature. 

When  we  were  left  to  ourselves,   I  said  to  the  king, 

<(  Now,  then,  for  this  interesting  and  amusing  budget ; 
for  such,  I  doubt  not,  it  will  prove.  * 

"Not  so  fast,  madam,  if  you  please,"  replied  Louis 
XV. ;  "  perhaps  these  papers  may  contain  state  secrets 
unfit  for  your  eye." 

<(  Great  secrets  they  must  be,"  said  I,  laughing,  <(  confided 
thus  to  the  carelessness  of  the  post."  So  saying,  I  broke 
the  seal  of  the  envelope  so  hastily,  that  the  greater  part 
of  the  letters  and  notes  were  scattered  over  the  carpet. 

"Well  done,"  cried  the  king. 

<(  I  entreat  your  majesty's  pardon,"  said  I,  "but  I  will 
repair  the  mischief  as  far  as  I  can." 

I  stooped  to  collect  the  fallen  papers,  and  the  king 
had  the  gallantry  to  assist  me:  we  soon  piled  the  various 
letters  upon  a  tray,  and  began  eagerly  to  glance  over 
their  contents.  My  good  fortune  made  me  select  from 
the  mass  those  epistles  addressed  to  the  members  of  the 
country  parliaments;  they  were  filled  with  invectives 
against  me,  insulting  mention  of  the  king,  and  praises 
of  the  due  de  Choiseul.  I  took  especial  care  to  read  them 
in  a  loud  and  distinct  voice. 

"This  really  is  not  to  be  endured,"  cried  Louis  XV.; 
"  that  the  mistaken  zeal  of  these  long-robed  gentlemen 
should  make  them  thus  compliment  my  minister  at  my 
expense. " 

"So  much  the  worse  for  you,  sire,"  replied  I,  "consider- 
ing that  you  continue  to  prefer  your  minister  to  every 
other  consideration." 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  245 

As  I  continued  searching  through  the  letters,  I  found 
and  read  the  following  phrase :  — 

«  Spite  of  the  reports  in  circulation,  I  do  not  believe  it  possible 
that  M.  de  Choiseul  will  be  dismissed;  he  is  too  necessary  to  the 
king,  who,  without  him,  would  be  as  incapable  as  a  child  of  manag- 
ing his  affairs:  his  majesty  must  preserve  our  friend  in  office  in 
spite  of  himself.* 

When  I  had  finished,  the  king  exclaimed,  in  an  angry 
tone,  (<  We  shall  see  how  far  the  prophecy  of  these  sapi- 
ent gentlemen  is  correct,  and  whether  their  friend*  is 
so  important  to  me  that  I  dare  not  dismiss  him.  Upon 
my  word,  my  minister  has  placed  himself  so  advanta- 
geously before  his  master,  as  to  exclude  him  entirely 
from  the  eyes  of  his  subjects. w 

Whilst  these  words  were  speaking,  M.  de  Maupeou  and 
M.  de  la  Vrilliere  were  announced;  the  king,  still  warm, 
let  fall  some  words  expressive  of  his  displeasure  at  what 
had  happened.  The  gauntlet  was  thrown;  and  so  well 
did  we  work  upon  the  irritated  mind  of  Louis  XV.,  that 
it  was  determined  M.  de  Choiseul  should  be  dismissed 
the  following  day,  December  24,  1770.  Chanteloup  was 
chosen  for  the  place  of  his  retreat,  and  M.  de  la  Vrilliere, 
by  the  dictation  of  the  king,  wrote  the  following  letter 
to  the  duke:  — 

<(  COUSIN, — The  dissatisfaction  caused  me  by  your  conduct  compels 
me  to  request  you  will  confine  yourself  to  your  estate  at  Chanteloup, 
whither  you  will  remove  in  four  and  twenty  hours  from  the  date 
hereof.  I  should  have  chosen  a  more  remote  spot  for  your  place  of 
exile,  were  it  not  for  the  great  esteem  I  entertain  for  the  duchesse 
de  Choiseul,  in  whose  delicate  health  I  feel  much  interest.  Have  a 
care  that  you  do  not,  by  your  own  conduct,  oblige  me  to  adopt 
harsher  measures;  and  hereupon  I  pray  God  to  have  you  in  his 
keeping. » 

(Signed)  « Louis, 

(and  lower  down)      «  PHILIPPEAUX.® 

When  this  letter  was  completed,  I  said  to  the  king, 
w  Surely,  sire,  you   do   not  mean   to   forget   the   duke's 
faithful   ally,  M.    de    Praslin  ?    It  would  ill  become  us  to 
detain  him  when  the  head   of   the  family  has  taken  leave 
of  us.» 


246  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

<(  You  are  right, *  replied  the  king,  smiling ;  ft  besides,  an 
old  broom  taken  from  a  masthead  would  be  as  useful 
to  us  as  he  would.* 

Then,  turning  to  M.  de  la  Vrilliere,  the  king  dictated 
the  following  laconic  notice:  — 

<(  COUSIN,  —  I  have  no  further  occasion  for  your  services ;  I  exile 
you  to  Praslin,  and  expect  you  will  repair  thither  within  four  and 
twenty  hours  after  the  receipt  of  this.* 

<(  Short  and  sweet,*  cried  I. 

<{  Now  let  us  drop  the  subject, *  said  Louis;  "let 
madame  de  Choiseul  repose  in  peace  to-night,  and  to- 
morrow morning,  at  eleven  o'clock,  go  yourself,  M.  de  la 
Vrilliere,  and  carry  my  orders  to  the  duke,  and  bring 
back  his  staff  of  office.* 

ft  To  whom  will  you  give  it,  sire  ?  *  inquired  the  chan- 
cellor. 

(<I  have  not  yet  considered  the  subject,*  replied  the 
king. 

At  this  instant  M.  de  Soubise  was  announced.  <(  Mot  us  !  * 
exclaimed  the  king,  as  M.  de  Soubise,  little  suspecting  the 
nature  of  our  conversation,  entered  the  room.  I  profited 
by  his  coming  to  slip  out  of  the  room  into  my  boudoir, 
from  which  I  despatched  the  following  note  to  M. 
d'Aiguillon: 

<(Mv  DEAR  DUKE. —  Victoria !  We  are  conquerors;  master  and  man 
quit  Paris  to-morrow.  We  shall  replace  them  by  our  friends;  and 
you  best  know  whether  you  are  amongst  the  number  of  them.® 

When  I  returned  to  the  drawing-room,  the  king  ex- 
claimed, 

"Come,  madam,  you  are  waited  for;  the  prince  de  Sou- 
bise has  a  very  curious  anecdote  to  relate,  which  befell 
a  lady  of  his  acquaintance;  I  begged  of  him  to  defer 
telling  it  till  you  rejoined  us.* 

<(  Are  you  afraid  of  ghosts  ?  *  inquired  the  mare'chal 
of  me. 

<(  Not  this  evening,  *  replied  I ;  (<  to-morrow,  perhaps,  or 
the  next  day,  I  may  be.* 

This  jest  amused  the  king  and  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere, 
whilst  M.  de  Maupeou,  who  seemed  to  fear  lest  I  should 


COMTESSE    DU   BARRY  247 

by  any  indiscretion,  reveal  our  secret,  made  a  signal  of 
impatience;  to  which  I  replied,  by  shrugging  up  my 
shoulders.  Poor  M.  de  Soubise,  although  he  did  not 
comprehend  my  joke,  laughed  at  it  as  heartily  as  the 
rest  who  saw  its  application.  <{  Oh!  you  courtier,*  thought 
I.  We  then  entreated  of  him  to  commence  the  recital 
of  his  tale,  which  he  did  in  the  following  words  — 

*  There  is  in  Lower  Brittany  a  family  gifted  with  a 
most  singular  endowment:  each  member  of  the  family, 
male  or  female,  is  warned  exactly  one  month  previous 
to  his  or  her  decease  of  the  precise  hour  and  day  in  which 
it  will  take  place.  A  lady  belonging  to  this  peculiar  race 
was  visiting  me  rather  more  than  a  month  since;  we 
were  conversing  quietly  together,  when,  all  at  once,  she 
uttered  a  loud  cry,  arose  from  her  seat,  endeavoured 
to  walk  across  the  room,  but  fell  senseless  upon  the  floor. 
Much  grieved  and  surprised  at  this  scene,  I  hastily  sum- 
moned my  servants,  who  bestowed  upon  the  unfortunate 
lady  the  utmost  attention,  but  it  was  long  ere  she  revived. 
I  then  wished  to  persuade  her  to  take  some  rest.  (  No,  > 
cried  she,  rising  and  giving  me  orders  for  her  immediate 
departure,  *  I  have  not  sufficient  time  for  rest ;  scarcely 
will  the  short  period  between  me  and  eternity  allow  me 
to  set  my  affairs  in  order.*  Surprised  at  this  language, 
I  begged  of  her  to  explain  herself.  *  You  are  aware,*  said 
she,  *of  the  fatal  power  possessed  by  my  family;  well, 
at  the  moment  in  which  I  was  sitting  beside  you  on  this 
sofa,  happening  to  cast  my  eyes  on  the  mirror  opposite, 
I  saw  myself  as  a  corpse  wrapped  in  the  habiliments  of 
death,  and  partly  covered  with  a  black  and  white  drapery; 
beside  me  was  an  open  coffin.  This  is  sufficient;  I  have 
no  time  to  lose:  farewell,  my  friend,  we  shall  meet  no 
more.'  Thunderstruck  at  these  words,  I  suffered  the 
lady  to  depart  without  attempting  to  combat  her  opinion. 
This  morning  I  received  intelligence  from  her  son  that 
the  prophecy  had  been  fulfilled  —  she  was  no  more.* 
When  the  mare'chal  had  finished,  I  exclaimed, 
<c  You  have  told  us  a  sad  dismal  tale ;  I  really  fear  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  close  my  eyes  at  all  to-night  for  think- 
ing of  it.* 


248  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

(<  We  must  think  of  some  means  of  keeping  up  your 
spirits, "  answered  Louis  XV.  (<  As  for  your  story, 
mare'chal,  it  does  not  surprise  me;  things  equally  inex- 
plicable are  continually  taking  place.  I  read  in  a  letter 
addressed  by  Philip  V.,  of  Spain,  to  Louis  XIV.,  that 
the  spirit  of  Philip  II.,  founder  of  the  Escurial,  wanders 
at  certain  intervals  around  that  building.  Philip  V.  af- 
firms that  he  himself  witnessed  the  apparition  of  the 
spectre  of  the  king." 

At  this  moment  supper  was  announced.  (<  Come,  gentle- 
men, "*  said  I,  (<  let  us  seek  to  banish  these  gloomy  ideas 
around  our  festive  board."  Upon  which  the  king  con- 
ducted me  to  the  supper-room,  the  rest  of  the  company 
following  us.  Spite  of  all  my  efforts  to  be  gay,  and  in- 
duce others  to  be  so  likewise,  the  conversation  still 
lingered  upon  this  dismal  subject. 

w  Heaven  grant,  "  exclaimed  the  chancellor,  (<  that  I 
may  not  soon  have  to  dread  a  visit  from  the  ghost  of 
the  deceased  parliament;  however,  if  such  were  the  case, 
it  would  not  prevent  my  sleeping." 

<(  Oh !  *  cried  the  king,  (<  these  long-robed  gentlemen 
have  often  more  effectually  robbed  me  of  sleep  than  all 
the  spectres  in  the  world  could  do;  yet  one  night — w 

(<  Well,  sire, "  said  I,  seeing  that  Louis  was  silent,  w  and 
what  happened  to  you  that  night  ? " 

(<  Nothing  that  I  can  repeat, "  answered  Louis  XV. , 
glancing  around  with  a  mournful  look. 

A  dead  silence  followed,  which  lasted  several  minutes; 
and  this  evening,  which  was  to  usher  my  day  of  triumph, 
passed  away  in  the  most  inconceivable  dullness.  What 
most  contributed  to  render  me  uneasy  was  the  reflection, 
that,  at  the  very  moment  when  we  had  freed  ourselves 
of  our  enemies,  we  were  ignorant  who  would  fill  their 
vacant  places.  This  was  an  error,  and  a  great  one.  My 
friends  would  not  listen  to  the  nomination  of  the  comte  de 
Broglie,  the  comte  de  Maillebois,  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon, 
any  more  than  either  M.  de  Soubise  or  M.  de  Castries. 
The  abbe"  Terray,  having  upon  one  occasion  proposed  the 
mare'chal  due  de  Richelieu,  he  very  narrowly  escaped 
having  his  face  scratched  by  M.  d'Aiguillon,  who  cared 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  249 

very  little  for  his  dear  uncle ;  but  I  have  unintentionally 
wandered  from  the  thread  of  my  narrative;  I  will  there- 
fore resume  it  at  once. 

I  had  hoped  that  the  king  would  this  night  have  re- 
tired to  his  own  apartment,  and  that  I  should  have  been 
enabled  to  hold  a  secret  council  with  M.  de  Maupeou, 
and  the  dues  de  la  Vrilliere  and  d'Aiguillon ;  but  no  such 
thing.  Imagining,  no  doubt,  that  I  should  be  kept  awake 
by  my  fear  of  ghosts,  his  majesty  insisted  upon  remain- 
ing with  me,  and  I  was  compelled  to  acquiesce.  He 
passed  a  very  agitated  night,  much  more  occupied  with 
the  des  Choiseuls  than  me;  he  could  think  of  noth- 
ing, speak  of  nothing,  but  the  sensation  which  their 
disgrace  would  produce;  he  seemed  to  dread  his  family, 
the  nobility,  the  nation,  Europe,  and  the  whole  world. 
I  strove  to  re-assure  him,  and  to  inspire  him  with  fresh 
courage;  and,  when  he  quitted  me  in  the  morning,  I  felt 
convinced  that  he  would  not  again  alter  his  determina- 
tion. 

As  soon  as  Louis  XV.  had  left  me,  comte  Jean  entered. 
Although  concealed  behind  the  curtain,  and  apparently 
not  on  the  best  terms  with  me,  my  brother-in-law  never- 
theless directed  my  actions,  and  gave  me  most  excellent 
advice.  It  was  not  long  ere  the  due  d'Aiguillon  arrived; 
he  had  seen  M.  de  Maupeou  during  the  night,  and 
learned  from  him  the  exile  of  the  late  minister,  but  be- 
yond that  fact  he  knew  nothing.  He  inquired  of  me, 
with  much  uneasiness,  whether  anything  had  been  de- 
cided in  his  behalf.  I  replied,  that  the  king  was  as  yet 
undecided  in  his  choice  of  ministers,  but  that,  if  the  due 
d'Aiguillon  came  into  office,  he  would,  in  all  probability, 
be  nominated  to  the  administration  of  foreign  affairs :  the 
direction  of  the  war-office  had  been  my  noble  friend's 
ardent  desire. 

Whilst  we  were  thus  conversing  together  on  the  24th 
of  December,  1770,  eleven  o'clock  struck;  and  we  could, 
from  the  windows,  perceive  M.  de  la  Vrilliere  taking  his 
way  towards  that  part  of  the  building  occupied  by  M. 
de  Choiseul  when  at  the  castle.  This  latter  was  in  con- 
versation with  M.  Conzid,  bishop  of  Arras,  when  the  arrival 


250  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

of  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere,  bearing  the  king's  commands, 
was  signified  to  him,  The  prelate,  not  doubting  but  the 
mission  related  to  affairs  of  importance,  took  his  leave; 
M.  de  la  Vrilliere  then  presented  the  lettre  de  cachet,  ac- 
companying it  with  some  remarks  of  his  own  upon  the 
talents  of  .the  minister,  and  his  regret  at  being  selected 
for  so  unpleasant  an  office.  a  A  truce  to  your  feigned 
regrets,  my  lord  duke,B  replied  the  disgraced  minister, 
sarcastically,  <(  I  am  well  assured  my  dismissal  could  not 
have  been  brought  me  by  hands  more  ready  to  discharge 
the  trust  than  yours. }>  Saying  this,  M.  de  Choiseul  placed 
his  credentials  in  the  hands  of  the  duke,  and  "slightly  bow- 
ing, turned  his  back  upon  him,  as  though  he  had  forgotten 
his  presence.  M.  de  Choiseul  then  retired  to  summon  his 
sister,  to  communicate  to  her  and  his  wife  the  misfortune 
which  had  befallen  him :  he  then  set  out  for  Paris,  to  make 
the  necessary  preparations  for  removing  to  Chanteloup. 
There  an  officer  from  the  king,  charged  to  accompany 
him  to  his  place  of  exile,  gave  him  his  majesty's  orders 
that  he  should  see  no  person,  and  receive  no  visits. 

This  order  did  not  proceed  from  me,  but  was  the  work 
of  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere,  who  sought,  by  this  paltry 
action,  to  avenge  himself  upon  M.  de  Choiseul  for  the 
reception  he  had  given  him.  It  was  wholly  useless,  how- 
ever; for  in  the  exile  of  the  duke  was  seen  a  thing  un- 
heard of,  perhaps,  before,  and,  in  all  probability,  unlikely 
ever  to  occur  again  —  the  sight  of  a  whole  court  espousing 
the  part  of  an  exiled  minister,  and  openly  censuring  the 
monarch  who  could  thus  reward  his  services.  You,  no 
doubt,  remember  equally  well  as  myself  the  long  file  of 
carriages  that  for  two  days  blocked  up  the  road  to  Chante- 
loup. In  vain  did  Louis  XV.  express  his  dissatisfaction; 
his  court  flocked  in  crowds  to  visit  M.  de  Choiseul. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  castle  was  not  in  a  more  tranquil 
state.  At  the  news  of  the  dismissal  and  banishment 
of  M.  de  Choiseul,  a  general  hue  and  cry  was  raised 
against  me  and  my  friends:  one  might  have  supposed,  by 
the  clamours  it  occasioned,  that  the  ex-minister  had 
been  the  atlas  of  the  monarchy;  and  that,  deprived 
of  his  succour,  the  state  must  fall  into  ruins.  The  prin- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  251 

cesses  \vere  loud  in  their  anger,  and  accused  me  publicly 
of  having  conspired  against  virtue  itself!  The  virtue  of 
such  a  sister  and  brother!  I  ask  you,  my  friend,  is  not 
the  idea  truly  ludicrous  ? 

The  dauphiness  bewailed  his  fall  with  many  tears;  at 
least,  so  I  was  informed  by  a  lady  of  her  suite,  madame 
de  Catnpan.  This  lady  was  a  most  loquacious  person; 
she  frequently  visited  my  sister-in-law;  and,  thanks  to 
her  love  of  talking,  we  were  always  well-informed  of  all 
that  was  passing  in  the  household  of  Marie  Antoinette. 
However,  the  dauphin  was  far  from  sharing  the  grief  of 
his  illustrious  spouse.  When  informed  of  the  dismissal 
of  the  duke,  he  cried  out,  "Well,  madame  du  Barry  has 
saved  me  an  infinity  of  trouble  —  that  of  getting  rid  of  so 
dangerous  a  man,  in  the  event  of  my  ever  ascending  the 
throne.*  The  prince  did  not  usually  speak  of  me  in 
the  most  flattering  terms,  but  I  forgave  him  on  the  present 
occasion,  so  much  was  I  charmed  with  his  expression 
relative  to  the  late  minister;  it  afforded  me  the  certainty 
that  I  should  not  have  to  dread  the  possibility  of  his  re- 
calling de  Choiseul. 

Whilst  many  were  bewailing  the  downfall  of  the  des 
Choiseuls,  others,  who  had  an  eye  more  to  self-inter- 
est, presented  themselves  to  share  in  the  spoils  of  his 
fortune.  There  were  the  princes  de  Soubise  and  de 
Conde",  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon,  the  comtes  de  Broglie, 
de  Maillebois,  and  de  Castries,  the  marquis  de  Monteynard, 
and  many  others,  equally  anxious  for  a  tempting '  slice  of 
the  ministry,  and  who  would  have  made  but  one  mouthful 
of  the  finest  and  best. 

The  marquise  de  1'Hopital  came  to  solicit  my  interest 
for  the  prince  de  Soubise,  her  lover.  I  replied,  that  his 
majesty  would  rather  have  the  mare*chal  for  his  friend  than 
his  minister;  that,  in  fact,  the  different  appointments  had 
taken  place ;  and  that,  if  the  names  of  the  parties  were  not 
immediately  divulged,  it  was  to  spare  the  feelings  of  certain 
aspirants  to  the  ministry:  madame  de  l'H6pital  withdrew, 
evidently  much  disconcerted  at  my  reply.  Certainly  M. 
de  Soubise  must  have  lost  his  reason,  when  he  supposed 
that  the  successor  of  M.  de  Choiseul  would  be  himself, 


252  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

the  most  insignificant  prince  of  France;  he  only  could 
suppose  that  he  was  equal  to  such  an  elevation.  How- 
ever this  may  be,  he  took  upon  himself  to  behave  very 
much  like  an  offended  person  for  some  days;  but,  finding 
such  a  line  of  conduct  produced  no  good,  he  came  round 
again,  and  presented  himself  as  usual  at  my  parties,  whilst 
I  received  him  as  though  nothing  had  occurred. 

I  had  more  difficulty  in  freeing  myself  from  the  im- 
portunities of  Messieurs  de  Broglie  and  de  Maillebois.  I 
had  given  to  each  of  them  a  sort  of  promise ;  I  had  allowed 
them  to  hope,  and  yet,  when  the  time  came  to  realize 
these  hopes,  I  told  them,  that  I  possessed  much  less 
influence  than  was  generally  imagined;  to  which  they 
replied,  that  they  knew  my  power  to  serve  them  was 
much  greater  than  I  appeared  to  believe.  After  a  while, 
I  succeeded  in  deadening  the  expectations  of  M.  de  Broglie, 
but  M.  de  Maillebois  was  long  ere  he  would  abandon 
his  pursuit.  When  every  chance  of  success  had  left  him, 
he  gave  way  to  so  much  violence  and  bitterness  against 
M.  d'Aiguillon,  that  the  duke  was  compelled  to  punish 
him  for  his  impudent  rage.  I  will  mention  the  other 
candidates  for  the  ministry  at  another  opportunity. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

The  comte  de  la  Marche  and  the  comtesse  du  Barry — The  countess 
and  the  prince  de  Conde — The  due  de  la  Vauguyon  and  the 
countess — Provisional  minister  —  Refusal  of  the  secretaryship  of 
war — Displeasure  of  the  king  —  The  marechale  de  Mirepoix  — 
Unpublished  letter  from  Voltaire  to  madame  du  Barry  —  Her  reply. 

THE  comte  de  la  Marche  had  always  evinced  the  warmest 
regard  for  me,  and  he  sought,  on  the  present  occa- 
sion, to  be  repaid  for  his  attachment.  Both  he  and 
the  prince  de  Conde"  had  their  ambitious  speculations 
in  the  present  change  of  ministers;  and  both  fancied, 
that  because  their  relation,  the  duke,  had  governed  dur- 
ing the  king's  minority,  the  right  to  the  several  appoint- 
ments now  vacant,  belonged  as  a  matter  of  course  to  their 
family.  The  count  had  already  sent  to  solicit  my  inter- 
est, through  the  mediation  of  madame  de  Monaco,  mis- 
tress to  the  prince  de  Conde*;  and,  as  I  shrewdly  suspect, 
the  occasional  chere  amie  of  himself.  Finding  this  measure 
did  not  produce  all  the  good  he  expected,  he  came,  with- 
out further  preface,  to  speak  to  me  himself  about  it. 
Unwilling  to  come  to  an  open  rupture  with  him,  I  en- 
deavoured to  make  him  comprehend,  that  the  policy  of 
the  sovereign  would  never  permit  his  placing  any  of  the 
administrative  power  in  the  hands  of  the  princes  of  his 
family;  that  he  had  consented,  most  reluctantly,  to  in- 
vesting them  with  military  command,  and  that  it  would 
be  fruitless  to  urge  more. 

The  comte  de  la  Marche  appeared  struck  by  the  just- 
ness of  my  arguments;  he  replied, 

w  Well,  madam,  since  I  cannot  be  a  minister,  I  must 
e'en  give  up  my  wishes;  but,  for  the  love  of  heaven,  in- 
treat  of  the  king  to  bestow  his  favours  in  the  shape  of 

(253) 


254  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

a  little  pecuniary  aid.  Things  look  ill  at  present;  they 
may  take  a  worse  turn,  but  he  may  confidently  rely  on 
my  loyalty  and  devotion:  the  supreme  courts,  driven  to 
the  last  extremity,  will  make  a  stand,  and  princes  and 
peers  will  range  themselves  under  the  banners.  We  well 
know  how  much  this  resistance  will  displease  his  majesty; 
I  pledge  myself  never  to  forsake  your  cause,  but  to  de- 
fend it  with  my  life ;  that  is,  if  my  present  pressing  neces- 
sity for  money  be  satisfied.  How  say  you,  madam;  can 
you  procure  it  for  me  ? s 

"Very  probably  I  may  be  enabled  to  assist  you,*  re- 
plied I ;  <(  but  you  must  first  inform  me  how  much  will 
satisfy  you.w 

"Oh,*  answered  he,  carelessly,  <(  something  less  than 
the  mines  of  Peru  will  suffice;  I  am  not  extravagant,  and 
merely  ask  for  so  much  as  is  absolutely  necessary.  In 
the  first  place  60,000  livres  paid  down,  and,  secondly,  a 
yearly  payment  of  200,000  more." 

This  demand  'did  not  appear  to  me  unreasonable,  and 
I  undertook  to  arrange  the  matter  to  the  prince's  satis- 
faction, well  pleased  on  my  own  side  to  secure  so  illus- 
trious an  ally  at  so  cheap  a  rate.  I  procured  the  assent 
of  the  king  and  the  comptroller-general;  the  60,000  livres 
were  bestowed  on  the  comte  de  la  Marche  in  two  sepa- 
rate payments,  the  pension  settled  on  him,  and,  still  further, 
an  annuity  of  30,000  livres  was  secured  to  madame  de 
Monaco;  and  I  must  do  the  count  the  justice  to  say,  that 
he  remained  faithful  to  our  cause  amidst  every  danger 
and  difficulty;  braving  alike  insults,  opprobrium,  and  the 
torrent  of  pamphlets  and  epigrams  of  which  he  was  the 
object;  in  fact,  we  had  good  reason  for  congratulating 
ourselves  upon  securing  such  devotion  and  zeal  at  so 
poor  a  price. 

The  prince  de  Conde",  surrounded  by  a  greater  degree  of 
worldly  state  and  consideration,  was  equally  important  to 
us,  although  in  another  way.  He  had  in  some  degree 
compromised  popularity  by  attaching  himself  to  me  from 
the  commencement  of  my  court  favour,  and  the  reception 
he  bestowed  on  me  at  Chantilly  had  completed  his  disgrace 
in  the  eyes  of  nobility.  He  visited  at  my  house  upon 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  255 

the  most  friendly  footing;  and  whenever  he  found  me 
alone,  he  would  turn  the  conversation  upon  politics,  the 
state  of  affairs,  and  the  great  desire  he  felt  to  under- 
take the  direction  of  them  in  concert  with  me ;  he  would 
add,  "You  might  play  the  part  of  madame  de  Pompa- 
dour, and  yet  you  content  yourself  with  merely  attempt- 
ing to  do  so;  you  are  satisfied  with  possessing  influence 
when  you  might  exercise  power  and  command.  Your 
alliance  with  a  prince  of  the  blood  would  render  you  sole 
mistress  in  this  kingdom;  and  should  I  ever  arrive, 
through  your  means,  to  the  rank  of  prime  minister,  it 
would  be  my  pleasure  and  pride  to  submit  all  things  to 
you,  and  from  this  accord  would  spring  an  authority 
which  nothing  could  weaken.8 

I  listened  in  silence,  and,  for  once,  my  natural  frank- 
ness received  a  check;  for  I  durst  not  tell  him  all  I 
knew  of  the  king's  sentiments  towards  him.  The  fact 
\yas,  Louis  XV.  was  far  from  feeling  any  regard  for  the 
prince  de  Conde";  and,  not  to  mince  the  matter,  had  un- 
equivocally expressed  his  contempt  for  him.  He  often 
said  to  me,  when  speaking  of  him,  (<  He  is  a  conceited  fel- 
low, who  would  fain  induce  persons  to  believe  him  -some- 
body of  vast  importance. w  Louis  XV.  had  prejudices, 
from  which  no  power  on  earth  could  have  weaned  him; 
and  the  princes  of  the  house  of  Conde  were  amongst 
his  strongest  antipathies:  he  knew  a  score  of  scandalous 
anecdotes  relating  to  them,  which  he  took  no  small 
pleasure  in  repeating. 

However,  all  the  arguments  of  the  prince  de  Cond£ 
were  useless,  and  produced  him  nothing,  or,  at  least, 
nothing  for  himself,  although  he  procured  the  nomina- 
tion of  another  to  the  ministry,  as  you  will  hear  in  its 
proper  place;  but  this  was  not  sufficient  to  allay  the 
cravings  of  his  ambition;  and,  in  his  rage  and  disap- 
pointment, when  open  war  was  proclaimed  between  the 
king  and  his  parliament,  he  ranged  himself  on  the  side 
of  the  latter.  He  soon,  however,  became  weary  of  his 
new  allies;  and,  once  more  abandoning  himself  to  the 
guidance  of  interest,  he  rejoined  our  party.  Well  did  M. 
de  Maupeou  know  men,  when  he  said  they  all  had  their 


«56  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

price ;  and  great  as  may  be  the  rank  and  title  of  princes, 
with  plenty  of  money,  they  too  may  be  had. 

But  amongst  all  the  candidates  for  the  ministry,  the 
one  who  occasioned  me  the  greatest  trouble  was  the 
due  de  la  Vauguyon,  who  insisted  upon  it  that  he  had 
done  much  for  me,  and  complained  bitterly  of  his  unre- 
quited services,  and  of  my  having  bestowed  my  confi- 
dence on  others.  Up  to  the  moment  of  the  disgrace 
of  the  des  Choiseuls,  he  had  been  amongst  the  most 
bitter  of  the  malcontents;  but  no  sooner  were  they  ban- 
ished from  court  than  M.  de  la  Vauguyon  forgot  every 
thing,  and  hastened  to  me  with  every  mark  of  the 
warmest  friendship. 

"  Ah ! w  exclaimed  he,  "  I  have  much  to  scold  you  for, 
but  I  will  forgive  you  all  your  past  misdeeds,  if  you 
will  perform  your  promise  to  me.* 

<(  My  dear  father,"  cried  I  (for  I  used  jestingly  to 
style  him  so,  in  the  same  manner  as  I  designated  the 
bishop  of  Orleans gros  f^re),  "are  you,  indeed  displeased 
with  me  ?  That  is  very  naughty :  for  you  know  I  love 
you  with  all  my  heart.  * 

(<  If  it  be  true  that  you  entertain  any  regard  for  me, 
why  have  you  evinced  so  little  towards  me  ?  Am  I  not 
of  the  right  materials  for  making  ministers  ?  Why,  then, 
have  you  never  procured  my  appointment  to  any  of  the 
vacant  situations  ? B 

"  Stay,  stay,  my  dear  father,  *  cried  I ;  <(  how  you  run 
on!  To  hear  you  talk,  any  person  would  suppose  that 
places  and  appointments  rained  down  upon  me,  and  that 
I  had  only  to  say  to  you,  my  dear  duke,  choose  which 
you  please;  then,  indeed,  you  might  complain  with  justice; 
but  you  know  very  well,  that  all  these  delightful  things 
are  in  the  hands  of  the  king,  who  alone  has  a  right  to 
bestow  them  as  he  judges  best,  whilst  I  am  wholly  pow- 
erless in  the  business.8 

"Say,  rather,*  replied  the  duke,  quickly,  "that  you 
find  it  suits  your  present  purpose  to  put  on  this  want  of 
power.  We  all  know,  that  your  veto  is  absolute  with 
his  majesty,  and  it  requires  nothing  more  to  obtain 
whatsoever  you  desire." 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  257 

The  due  de  la  Vauguyon  was  powerful,  and  repre- 
sented the  whole  of  a  party  —  that  of  the  religionists, 
which  was  still  further  supported  by  the  princesses ;  but 
for  this  very  reason  the  triumvirate,  consisting  of  mes- 
sieurs d'Aiguillon,  de  Maupeou,  and  the  abbe"  Terray, 
would  not  have  accepted  his  services  at  any  price. 

The  good  duke  returned  several  times  to  the  charge; 
sometimes  endeavouring  to  move  me  by  gentle  intreaties, 
and,  at  others,  holding  out  threats  and  menaces;  good 
and  bad  words  flowed  from  his  lips  like  a  mixture  of 
honey  and  gall;  but  when  he  found  that  both  were 
equally  thrown  away  upon  me,  he  retired  offended;  and 
by  the  expression  of  his  rage  and  disappointment,  sue- 
ceeded  in  incensing  both  the  dauphin  and  dauphiness 
against  me.  May  heaven  preserve  you,  my  friend,  from 
the  anger  of  a  bigot! 

I  think  I  have  detained  you  long  enough  with  the  re- 
lation of  the  intrigues  by  which  I  was  surrounded  upon 
the  dismissal  of  the  des  Choiseuls,  and  I  will  now  return 
to  the  morning  of  the  24th  of  December.  When  the  ex- 
iles were  fairly  out  of  Paris,  the  king  found  himself  not 
a  little  embarrassed  in  the  .  choice  of  a  prime  minister. 
Those  who  would  have  suited  our  purposes  did  not  meet 
with  the  king's  approbation,  and  he  had  not  yet  suffi- 
cient courage  to  venture  upon  electing  one  who  should 
be  disagreeable  to  us;  he  therefore  hit  upon  a  curious 
provisional  election;  the  abbe"  Terray,  for  instance,  was 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  war  department.  This  measure 
was  excused  by  the  assertion,  that  it  would  require  the 
head  of  a  financier  to  look  into  and  settle  the  accounts, 
which  the  late  minister  had,  no  doubt,  left  in  a  very  con- 
fused state.  Upon  the  same  principle,  M.  Bertin  was 
appointed  to  the  direction  of  foreign  affairs,  and  M.  de 
Boynes  was  invested  solely  with  the  management  of  naval 
affairs.  This  man,  who  was  counsellor  of  state,  and  first 
president  of  the  parliament  of  Besangon,  knew  not  a  let- 
ter of  the  office  thus  bestowed  upon  him,  but  then  he 
was  bound  body  and  soul  to  the  chancellor;  and  it  was 
worth  something  to  have  a  person  who,  it  might  be  re- 
lied on,  would  offer  no  opposition  to  the  important  reforms 
'7 


258  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE    VAUBERNIER 

which  were  to  be  set  on  foot  immediately.  We  required 
merely  automata,  and  M.  de  Boynes  answered  our  purpose 
perfectly  well;  for  a  provisional  minister  nothing  could 
have  been  better. 

The  king  had  at  length  (in  his  own  opinion),  hit  upon 
a  very  excellent  minister  of  war;  and  the  person  selected 
was  the  chevalier,  afterwards  comte  de  Muy,  formerly 
usher  to  the  late  dauphin:  he  was  a  man  of  the  old  school, 
possessing  many  sterling  virtues  and  qualities.  We  were 
in  the  utmost  terror  when  his  majesty  communicated  to 
us  his  election  of  a  minister  of  war,  and  declared  his 
intention  of  immediately  signifying  his  pleasure  to  M. 
de  Muy.  Such  a  blow  would  have  overthrown  all  our 
projects.  Happily  chance  befriended  us;  the  modern 
Cato  declared  that  he  should  esteem  himself  most  honored 
to  serve  his  sovereign  by  every  possible  endeavour,  but 
that  he  could  never  be  Induced  to  enter  my  service  upon 
any  pretext  whatever.  The  strangeness  of  this  refusal 
puzzled  Louis  XV.  not  a  little.  He  said  to  me,  "  Can  you 
make  out  the  real  motive  of  this  silly  conduct  ?  I  had  a  bet- 
ter opinion  of  the  man;  I  thought  him  possessed  of  sense, 
but  I  see  now  that  he  is  only  fit  for  the  cowl  of  a  monk ; 
he  will  never  be  a  minister."  The  king  was  mistaken: 
M.  de  Muy  became  one  under  the  auspices  of  his  successor. 

Immediately  that  the  prince  de  Conde*  was  informed 
of  what  had  passed,  he  recommenced  his  attack;  and 
finding  he  could  not  '  be  minister  himself,  he  deter- 
mined, at  least,  to  be  principally  concerned  in  the 
appointment  of  one;  he  therefore  proposed  the  marquis 
de  Monteynard,  a  man  of  such  negative  qualities,  that  the 
best  that  could  be  said  of  him  was,  that  he  was  as  incapable 
of  a  bad  as  of  a  good  action ;  and,  for  want  of  a  bet- 
ter, he  was  elected.  Such  were  the  colleagues  given  to 
M.  de  Maupeou  to  conduct  the  war  which  was  about  to 
be  declared  against  the  parliaments.  I  should  tell  you, 
en  passant^  that  the  discontent  of  the  magistracy  had 
only  increased,  and  that  the  parliament  of  Paris  had  even 
finished  by  refusing  to  decide  the  suits  which  were  re- 
ferred to  them ;  thus  punishing  the  poor  litigants  for  their 
quarrel  with  the  minister. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  259 

Meanwhile,  the  general  interest  expressed  for  the  due 
de  Choiseul  greatly  irritated  the  king. 

<(  Who  would  have  thought, "  said  he  to  me,  <(  that  a 
disgraced  minister  could  have  been  so  idolized  by  a  'whole 
court  ?  Would  you  believe  that  I  receive  a  hundred  peti- 
tions a  day  for  leave  to  visit  at  Chanteloup  ?  This  is  some- 
thing new  indeed!  I  cannot  understand  it.* 

"Sire,"  replied  I,  <(  that  only  proves  how  much  danger 
you  incurred  by  keeping  such  a  man  in  your  employ* 
ment. " 

<(Why,  yes,*  answered  Louis  XV.;  <{it  really  seems 
as  though,  had  he  chosen  some  fine  morning  to  propose 
my  abdicating  the  throne  in  favour  of  the  dauphin,  he 
would  only  have  needed  to  utter  the  suggestion  to  have 
it  carried  into  execution.  Fortunately  for  me,  my  grand- 
son is  by  no  means  partial  to  him,  and  will  most  certainly 
never  recall  him  after  my  death.  The  dauphin  possesses 
all  the  obstinacy  of  persons  of  confined  understanding: 
he  has  but  slender  judgment,  and  will  see  with  no  eyes 
but  his  own.  * 

Louis  XV.  augured  ill  of  his  successor's  reign,  and 
imagined  that  the  cabinet  of  Vienna  would  direct  that 
of  Versailles  at  pleasure.  His  late  majesty  was  mistaken ; 
Louis  XVI.  is  endowed  with  many  rare  virtues,  but  they 
are  unfortunately  clouded  over  by  his  timidity  and  want 
of  self-confidence. 

The  open  and  undisguised  censure  passed  by  the  whole 
court  upon  the  conduct  of  Louis  XV.  was  not  the  only 
thing  which  annoyed  his  majesty,  who  perpetually  tor- 
mented  himself  with  conjectures  of  what  the  rest  of 
Europe  would  say  and  think  of  his  late  determinations. 

<{  I  will  engage,"  said  he,  "that  I  am  finely  pulled  to 
pieces  at  Potsdam.  My  dear  brother  Frederick  is  about 
as  sweet-tempered  as  a  bear,  and  I  must  not  dismiss  a 
minister  who  is  displeasing  to  me  without  his  passing  a 
hundred  comments  and  sarcastic  remarks.  Still,  as  he 
is  absolute  as  the  Medes  and  Persians,  surely  he  can  have 
no  objection  to  us  poor  monarchs  imitating  him:  and 
allow  me  the  same  privilege  in  mine.  After  all,  why 
should  I  need  his  or  any  other  person's  opinion;  let  the 


260  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

whole  world  applaud  or  condemn,  I  shall  still  act  accord- 
ing to  my  own  best  judgment.8 

On  my  side  I  was  far  from  feeling  quite  satisfied  with 
the  accounts  I  continued  to  receive  from  Chanteloup; 
above  all,  I  felt  irritated  at  the  parade  of  attachment 
made  by  the  prince  de  Beauvau  for  the  exiles,  and  I 
complained  bitterly  of  it  to  the  mare*chale  de  Mirepoix. 

"What  can  I  do  to  help  it,8  said  she;  <(my  sister-in- 
law  is  a  simpleton ;  who,  after  having  ruined  her  brother, 
will  certainly  cause  the  downfall  of  her  husband.  I  be- 
seech you,  my  dear,  out  of  regard  for  me,  to  put  up  with 
the  unthinking  conduct  of  the  prince  de  Beauvau  for  a 
little  while;  he  will  soon  see  his  error  and  amend  it.* 
He  did  indeed  return  to  our  party,  but  his  obedience 
was  purchased  at  a  heavy-  price. 

Some  days  after  the  disgrace  of  the  due  de  Choiseul,  I 
received  a  letter  from  M.  de  Voltaire.  This  writer,  who 
carped  at  and  attacked  all  subjects,  whether  sacred  or 
profane,  and  from  whose  satires  neither  great  nor  small 
were  exempt,  had  continual  need  of  some  powerful  friend 
at  court.  When  his  protector,  M.  de  Choiseul,  was  dis- 
missed, he  saw  clearly  enough  that  the  only  person  on 
whom  he  could  henceforward  depend  to  aid  and  support 
him,  was  she  who  had  been  chiefly  instrumental  in  re- 
moving his  first  patron.  With  these  ideas  he  addressed 
to  me  the  following  letter  of  condolence  or,  to  speak 
more  correctly,  of  congratulation.  It  was  as  follows :  — 

*  MADAME  LA  COMTESSE,  —  Fame,  with  her  hundred  tongues,  has  an- 
nounced to  me  in  my  retreat  the  fall  of  M.  de  Choiseul  and  your 
triumph.  This  piece  of  news  has  not  occasioned  me  much  surprise; 
I  always  believed  in  the  potency  of  beauty  to  carry  all  before  it ;  but, 
shall  I  confess  it  ?  I  scarcely  know  whether  I  ought  to  congratulate 
myself  on  the  success  you  have  obtained  over  your  enemies.  M.  de 
Choiseul  was  one  of  my  kindest  friends,  and  his  all-powerful  protec- 
tion sufficed  to  sustain  me  against  the  malice  of  my  numerous  ene- 
mies. May  a  humble  creature  like  me  flatter  himself  with  the  hope 
of  finding  in  you  the  same  generous  support  ?  for  when  the  god  Mars 
is  no  longer  to  be  found,  what  can  be  more  natural  than  to  seek  the 
aid  of  Pallas,  the  goddess  of  the  fine  arts  ?  Will  she  refuse  to  protect 
with  her  aegis  the  most  humble  of  her  adorers  ? 

«  Permit  me,  madam,  to  avail  myself  of  this  opportunity  to  lay  at 
your  feet  the  assurance  of  my  most  respectful  devotion.  I  dare  not 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  261 

give  utterance  to  all  my  prayers  in  your  behalf,  because  I  am  open 
to  a  charge  of  infidelity  from  some,  yet  none  shall  ever  detect  me 
unfaithful  in  my  present  professions;  at  my  age,  'tis  time  our  choice 
was  made,  and  our  affections  fixed.  Be  assured,  lovely  countess,  that 
I  shall  ever  remain  your  attached  friend;  and  that  no  day  will  pass 
without  my  teaching  the  echoes  of  the  Alps  to  repeat  your  much- 
esteemed  name. 

<(Ihave  the  honour  to  remain,  madam,  yours,  etc.,  etc." 

You  may  be  quite  sure,  my  friend,  that  I  did  not  allow 
so  singular  an  epistle  to  remain  long  unanswered.  I 
replied  to  it  in  the  following  words:  — 


The  perusal  of  your  agreeable  letter  made  me  almost  grieve 
for  the  disgrace  of  the  due  de  Choiseul.  Be  assured,  that  to  his  own 
conduct,  and  that  of  his  family,  may  be  alone  attributed  the  misfor- 
tune you  deplore. 

«The  regrets  you  so  feelingly  express  for  the  calamity  which  has 
befallen  your  late  protector  do  honour  to  your  generous  heart;  but 
recollect  that  your  old  friends  were  not  the  only  persons  who  could 
appreciate  and  value  your  fine  talents;  to  be  esteemed  worthy  the 
honourable  appellation  of  your  patron  is  a  glory  which  the  proudest 
might  envy;  and,  although  I  cannot  boast  of  being  a  Minerva,  who, 
after  all,  was  possibly  no  wiser  than  the  rest  of  us,  I  shall  always 
feel  proud  and  happy  to  serve  you  with  my  utmost  credit  and  in- 
fluence. 

(<  I  return  you  my  best  thanks  for  the  wishes  you  express,  and  the 
attachment  you  so  kindly  profess.  You  honour  me  too  much  by  re- 
peating my  name  amidst  the  bosom  of  the  Alps  I  be  assured,  that  I 
shall  not  be  behindhand  in  making  the  saloons  of  Paris  and  Ver- 
sailles resound  with  yours.  Had  I  leisure  for  the  undertaking,  I 
would  go  and  teach  it  to  the  only  mountain  worthy  of  re-echoing  it 
—  at  the  foot  of  Parnassus. 

<(I  am,  sir,  yours,  etc.,  etc.  w 

You  perceive,  my  friend,  that  I  intended  this  reply 
should  be  coucHed  in  the  wittiest  style  imaginable,  yet, 
upon  reading  it  over  at  this  lapse  of  time,  it  appears  to 
me  the  silliest  thing  ever  penned  ;  nevertheless,  I  flattered 
myself  I  had  caught  the  tone  and  manner  in  which  M. 
de  Voltaire  had  addressed  me:  he  perceived  my  inten- 
tion, and  was  delighted  with  the  flattering  deference  it 
expressed.  You  know  the  vanity  of  men  of  letters;  and 
M.  de  Voltaire,  as  the  first  writer  of  the  age,  possessed, 
in  proportion,  the  largest  portion  of  conceit. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

A  few  words  respecting  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  —  The  comtesse  du 
Barry  is  desirous  of  his  acquaintance — The  countess  visits  Jean 
Jacques  Rousseau  —  His  household  furniture  —  His  portrait  — 
Therese  —  A  second  visit  from  madame  du  Barry  to  Jean  Jacques 
Rousseau  —  The  countess  relates  her  visit  to  the  king  —  Billet 
from  J.  J.  Rousseau  to  madame  du  Barry  —  The  two  duchesses 
d'Aiguillon. 

SPITE  of  the  little  estimation  in  which  I  held  men  of 
letters,  generally  speaking,  you  must  not  take  it 

for  granted  that  I  entertained  an  equal  indifference 
for  all  these  gentlemen.  I  have  already,  I  fear,  tired 
your  patience  when  dwelling  upon  my  ardent  admiration 
of  M.  de  Voltaire;  I  have  now  to  speak  to  you  of  that 
with  which  his  illustrious  rival,  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau, 
inspired  me;  the  man  who,  after  a  life  so  filled  with  con- 
stant trouble  and  misfortunes,  died  a  few  years  since  in  so 
deplorable  a  manner.  At  the  period  of  which  I  am  now 
speaking  this  man,  who  had  filled  Europe  with  his  fame, 
was  living  at  Paris,  in  a  state  bordering  upon  indigence. 
I  must  here  mention,  that  it  was  owing  to  my  solicitation 
that  he  had  been  permitted  to  return  from  his  exile,  I  having 
successfully  interceded  for  him  with  the  chancellor  and 
the  attorney-general.  M.  Seguier  made  no  difficulty  to 
my  request,  because  he  looked  upon  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau 
as  the  greatest  enemy  to  a  set  of  men  whom  he  mortally 
hated  —  the  philosophers.  Neither  did  M.  de  Maupeou, 
from  the  moment  he  effected  the  overthrow  of  the 
parliament,  see  any  objection  to  bestowing  his  protection 
upon  a  man  whom  the  parliaments  had  exiled.  In  this 
manner,  therefore,  without  his  being  aware  of  it,  Rousseau 
owed  to  me  the  permission  to  re-enter  Paris.  Spite  of 
the  mortifying  terms  in  which  this  celebrated  writer 

(262) 


COMTESSE   DU    BARRY  263 

had  spoken  of  the  king's  mistresses,  I  had  a  lively 
curiosity  to  know  him;  all  that  his  enemies  repeated  of 
his  uncouthness,  and  even  of  his  malicious  nature,  far 
from  weakening  the  powerful  interest  with  which  he 
inspired  me,  rather  augmented  it,  by  strengthening  the 
idea  I  had  previously  formed  of  his  having  been  greatly 
calumniated.  The  generous  vengeance  which  he  had 
recently  taken  for  the  injuries  he  had  received  from  Vol- 
taire particularly  charmed  me.*  I  thought  only  how  I 
could  effect  my  design  of  seeing  him  by  one  means  or 
another,  and  in  this  resolution  I  was  confirmed  by  an 
accident  which  befell  me  one  day. 

It  was  the  commencement  of  April,  1771,  I  was  read- 
ing for  the  fourth  time,  the  * Nouvelle  H/loise,"  and  for 
the  tenth,  or,  probably,  twelfth,  the  account  of  the  party 
on  the  lake,  when  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix  entered 
the  room.  I  laid  my  open  volume  on  the  mantel-piece, 
and  the  mare'chale,  glancing  her  eye  upon  the  book  I  had 
just  put  down,  smilingly  begged  my  pardon  for  disturbing 
my  grave  studies,  and  taking  it  in  her  hand,  exclaimed, 

<(  Ah !  I  see  you  have  been  perusing  *  La  Nouvelle 
He'loise) ;  I  have  just  been  having  more  than  an  hour's 
conversation  respecting  its  author." 

<(  What  were  you  saying  of  him  ?  w   asked  I. 

<(Why,  my  dear,  I  happened  to  be  at  the  house  of 
madame  de  Luxembourg,  where  I  met  with  the  comtesse 
de  Boufflers." 

(<Yes,  I  remember,"  said  I,  <(the  former  of  these  ladies 
was  the  particular  friend  of  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau.* 

(<  And  the  second  also, "  answered  she ;  (<  and  I  can 
promise  you,  that  neither  the  one  or  the  other  spoke  too 
well  of  him." 

<(  Is  it  possible  ? "  exclaimed  I,  with  a  warmth  I  could 
not  repress. 

<(  The  duchess, "  resumed  madame  de  Mirepoix,  <(  says 
he  is  an  ill-bred  and  ungrateful  man,  and  the  countess 
insists  upon  it  he  is  a  downright  pedant." 


*  Jean  Jacques   Rousseau   in   his  journey   through  Lyons   in  June, 
1770,  subscribed  for  the  statue  of  Voltaire. 


^64  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

<(  Shameful,  indeed, w  cried  I ;  a  but  can  you,  my  dear 
friend,  account  for  the  ill-nature  with  which  these  ladies 
speak  of  poor  Rousseau  ? w 

(<  Oh !  yes, })  replied  the  mare'chale,  w  their  motives  are 
easily  explained;  and  I  will  tell  you  a  little  secret,  for 
the  truth  of  which  I  can  vouch.  Madame  de  Luxem- 
bourg had  at  one  time  conceived  the  most  lively  passion 
for  Jean  Jacques.8 

« Indeed!9  cried  I;  «and  he  —  » 

"Did  not  return  it.  As  for  madame  de  Boufflers,  the 
case  was  exactly  reversed;  and  Rousseau  has  excited  her 
resentment  by  daring  long  to  nurse  a  hopeless  flame,  of 
which  she  was  the  object:  this  presumption  on  the  part 
of  the  poet  our  dignified  countess  could  never  pardon 
However,  I  entreat  of  you  not  to  repeat  this;  remember, 
I  tell  you  in  strictest  secrecy.® 

(<Oh,  be  assured  of  my  discretion, *  said  I;  w  I  promise 
you  not  to  publish  your  secret*  (which,  by  the  way,  I 
was  very  certain  was  not  communicated  for  the  first  time 
when  told  to  me). 

This  confidence  on  the  part  of  the  mare'chale  had,  in 
some  unaccountable  manner,  only  increased  the  ardent 
desire  I  felt  to  see  the  author  of  the  (<  Nouvelle  Htloise n; 
and  I  observed  to  madame  de  Mirepoix,  that  I  had  a  great 
curiosity  to  be  introduced  to  Rousseau. 

"  I  fear, w  said  she,  "  you  will  never  be  able  to  persuade 
him  to  visit  at  the  chateau." 

*  How  then  can  I  accomplish  my  desire  of  seeing  this 
celebrated  man  ? w 

w  By  one  simple  method ;  if  he  will  not  come  to  you, 
you  must  go  to  him.  I  would  willingly  accompany  you, 
but  he  knows  me,  and  my  presence  would  spoil  all.  The 
best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  dress  yourself  quite  plainly, 
as  a  lady  from  the  country,  taking  with  you  one  of  your 
female  attendants.  You  may  take  as  a  pretext  for  your 
visit  some  music  you  would  wish  to  have  copied.  Be  sure 
to  treat  M.  de  Rousseau  as  a  mere  copyist,  and  appear 
never  to  have  heard  of  his  superior  merit:  do  this,  and 
you  will  receive  the  best  possible  reception.* 

I  greatly  approved  of  the  mare"chale's  advice,  which  I 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  265 

assured  her  I  would  delay  no  longer  than  till  the  follow- 
ing day  to  put  into  practice;  and,  after  some  further  con- 
versation upon  J.  J.  Rousseau,  we  parted. 

Early  the  next  day  I  set  out  for  Paris  accompanied 
by  Henriette;  there,  in  pursuance  of  the  suggestion  of 
madame  de  Mirepoix,  I  dressed  myself  as  a  person  re- 
cently arrived  from  the  country,  and  Henriette,  who  was 
to  accompany  me,  disguised  herself  as  a  villager.  I  as- 
sure you,  our  personal  attractions  lost  nothing  by  the 
change  of  our  attire.  From  the  rue  de  la  Jussienne  to 
the  rue  Platriere  is  only  a  few  steps;  nevertheless,  in 
the  fear  of  being  recognised,  I  took  a  hired  carriage. 
Having  reached  our  place  of  destination,  we  entered,  by 
a  shabby  door,  the  habitation  of  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau: 
his  apartments  were  on  the  fifth  floor.  I  can  scarcely 
describe  to  you,  my  friend,  the  emotions  I  experienced 
as  I  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  author  of  <<He'loise.>) 
At  each  flight  of  stairs  I  was  compelled  to  pause  to 
collect  my  ideas,  and  my  poor  heart  beat  as  though  I 
had  been  keeping  an  assignation.  At  length,  however, 
we  reached  the  fifth  story;  thereafter  having  rested  a 
few  minutes  to  recover  myself,  I  was  about  to  knock  at 
a  door  which  was  opposite  to  me,  when,  as  I  approached, 
I  heard  a  sweet  but  tremulous  voice  singing  a  melan- 
choly air,  which  I  have  never  since  heard  anywhere; 
the  same  voice  repeated  the  romance  to  which  I  was 
listening  several  times.  When  it  had  entirely  ceased  I 
profited  by  the  silence  to  tap  with  my  knuckles  against 
the  door,  but  so  feeble  was  the  signal,  that  even  Hen- 
riette, who  was  close  behind  me,  could  not  hear  it.  She 
begged  I  would  permit  her  to  ring  a  bell  which  hung 
near  us;  and,  having  done  so,  a  step  was  heard  approach- 
ing the  door,  and,  in  a  minute  or  two,  it  was  opened 
by  a  man  of  about  sixty  years  of  age,  who,  seeing  two 
females,  took  off  his  cap  with  a  sort  of  clumsy  gal- 
lantry, at  which  I  affected  to  be  much  flattered. 

(<Pray,  sir,"  said  I,  endeavouring  to  repress  my  emotion, 
*  does  a  person  named  Rousseau,  a  copier  of  music,  live 
here  ? » 

(<  Yes,  madam ;  I  am  he.     What  is  your  pleasure  ? w 


266  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

w  I  have  been  told,  sir,  that  you  are  particularly  skilful 
in  copying  music  cheaply;  I  should  be  glad  if  you  would 
undertake  to  copy  these  airs  I  have  brought  with  me.® 

"  Have  the  goodness  to  walk  in,  madam. w 

We  crossed  a  small  obscure  closet,  which  served  as  a 
species  of  antechamber  and  entered  the  sitting-room  of 
M.  de  Rousseau,  who  seated  me  in  an  arm-chair,  and 
motioning  to  Henriette  to  sit  down,  once  more  inquired 
my  wishes  respecting  the  music. 

*  Sir, w  said  I,  (<  as  I  live  in  the  country,  and  but  very 
rarely  visit  Paris,  I  should  be  obliged  to  you  to  get  it 
done  as  early  as  possible.* 

"Willingly,  madam;  I  have  not  much  upon  my  hands 
just  now.* 

I  then  gave  to  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  the  roll  of  music 
I  had  brought.  He  begged  I  would  continue  seated,  re- 
quested permission  to  keep  on  his  cap,  and  went  to  a 
little  table  to  examine  the  music  I  had  brought. 

Upon  my  first  entrance  I  had  perceived  a  close  and 
confined  smell  in  these  miserable  apartments,  but,  by 
degrees,  I  became  accustomed  to  it,  and  began  to  examine 
the  chamber  in  which  I  sat  with  as  strict  a  scrutiny  as 
though  I  had  intended  making  an  inventory  of  its  contents. 
Three  old  elbow-chairs,  some  rickety  stools,  a  writing- 
table,  on  which  were  two  or  three  volumes  of  music, 
some  dried  plants  laid  on  white-brown  paper;  beside  the 
table  stood  an  old  spinet,  and,  close  to  the  latter  article 
of  furniture,  sat  a  fat  and  well-looking  cat.  Over  the 
chimney  hung  an  old  silver  watch ;  the  walls  of  the  room 
were  adorned  with  about  half  a  dozen  views  of  Switzer- 
land and  some  inferior  engravings,  two  only,  which 
occupied  the  most  honourable  situations,  struck  me;  one 
represented  Frederick  II.,  and  under  the  picture  were 
written  some  lines  (which  I  cannot  now  recollect)  by 
Rousseau  himself;  the  other  engraving,  which  hung  oppo- 
site, was  the  likeness  of  a  very  tall,  thin,  old  man,  whose 
dress  was  nearly  concealed  by  the  dirt  which  had  been 
allowed  to  accumulate  upon  it;  I  could  only  distinguish 
that  it  was  ornamented  with  a  broad  riband  When  I 
had  sufficiently  surveyed  this  chamber,  the  simplicity  of 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  267 

which,  so  closely  bordering  on  want  and  misery,  pained 
me  to  the  heart,  I  directed  my  attention  to  the  extraor- 
dinary man  who  was  the  occasion  of  my  visit.  He  was 
of  middle  height,  slightly  bent  by  age,  with  a  large  and 
expansive  chest;  his  features  were  common  in  their  cast, 
but  possessed  of  the  most  perfect  regularity.  His  eyes, 
which  he  from  time  to  time  raised  from  the  music  he 
was  considering,  were  round  and  sparkling  but  small, 
and  the  heavy  brows  which  hung  over  them,  conveyed 
an  idea  of  gloom  and  severity ;  but  his  mouth,  which  was 
certainly  the  most  beautiful  and  fascinating  in  its  ex- 
pression I  ever  saw,  soon  removed  this  unfavourable  im- 
pression. Altogether  there  belonged  to  his  countenance 
a  smile  of  mixed  sweetness  and  sadness,  which  bestowed 
on  it  an  indescribable  charm. 

To  complete  my  description,  I  must  not  forget  to  add 
his  dress,  which  consisted  of  a  dirty  cotton  cap,  to  which 
were  fixed  strings  of  a  riband  that  had  once  been  scar- 
let; a  pelisse  with  arm-holes,  a  flannel  waistcoat,  snuff- 
coloured  breeches,  gray  stockings,  and  shoes  slipped  down 
at  the  heel,  after  the  fashion  of  slippers.  Such  was  the 
portrait,  and  such  the  abode  of  the  man  who  believed 
himself  to  be  one  of  the  potentates  of  the  earth  and 
who,  in  fact,  had  once  owned  his  little  court  and  train 
of  courtiers ;  for,  in  the  century  in  which  he  lived,  talent 
had  become  as  arbitrary  as  sovereign  power — thanks  to 
the  stupidity  of  some  of  our  grandees  and  the  caprice 
of  Frederick  of  Prussia. 

Meanwhile  my  host,  undisturbed  by  my  reflections,  had 
quietly  gone  over  his  packet  of  music.  He  found 
amongst  it  an  air  from  «  Le  Devin  du  Village,  *  which  I 
had  purposely  placed  there;  he  half  turned  towards  me, 
and  looking  steadfastly  at  me,  as  if  he  would  force  the 
truth  from  my  lips. 

<(  Madam, w  said  he,  <(  do  you  know  the  author  of  this 
little  composition  ? w 

"Yes,"  replied  I,  with  an  air  of  as  great  simplicity  as 
I  could  assume,  (<  it  is  written  by  a  person  of  the  same 
name  as  yourself,  who  writes  books  and  composes  operas. 
Is  he  any  relation  to  you  ? w 


268  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

My  answer  and  question  disarmed  the  suspicions  of 
Jean  Jacques,  who  was  about  to  reply,  but  stopped  him- 
self, as  if  afraid  of  uttering  a  falsehood,  and  contented 
himself  with  smiling  and  casting  down  his  eyes.  Taking 
courage  from  his  silence,  I  ventured  to  add, — "  The  M. 
de  Rousseau  who  composed  this  pretty  air  has  written 
much  beautiful  music  and  many  very  clever  works. 
Should  I  ever  know  the  happiness  of  becoming  a  mother 
I  shall  owe  to  him  the  proper  care  and  education  of  my 
child.*  Rousseau  made  no  reply,  but  he  turned  his 
eyes  towards  me,  and  at  this  moment  the  expression  of 
his  countenance  was  perfectly  celestial,  and  I  could  readily 
imagine  how  easily  he  might  have  inspired  a  warmer 
sentiment  than  that  of  admiration. 

Whilst  we  were  conversing  in  this  manner,  a  female, 
between  the  age  of  forty  and  fifty,  entered  the  room. 
She  saluted  me  with  great  affectation  of  politeness,  and 
then,  without  speaking  to  Rousseau,  went  and  seated  her- 
self familiarly  upon  a  chair  on  the  other  side  of  the  table : 
this  was  The"rese,  a  sort  of  factotum,  who  served  the 
master  of  these  apartments  both  as  servant  and  mistress. 
I  could  not  help  regarding  this  woman  with  a  feeling  of 
disgust ;  she  had  a  horrible  cough,  which  she  told  us  was 
more  than  usually  troublesome  on  that  day.  I  had  heard 
of  her  avarice;  therefore  to  prevent  the  appearance  of 
having  called  upon  an  unprofitable  errand,  I  inquired 
of  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  how  much  the  music  would 
cost. 

"Six  sous  a  page,  madam, w  replied  he,  "is  the  usual 
price.  * 

"Shall  I,  sir,®  asked  I,  "leave  you  any  cash  in  hand 
for  the  purchase  of  what  paper  you  will  require  ?  * 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  madam,  *  replied  Rousseau,  smiling ; 
"  thank  God !  I  am  not  yet  so  far  reduced  that  I  cannot 
purchase  it  for  you.  I  have  a  trifling  annuity  — }> 

"And  you  would  be  a  much  richer  man,*  screamed 
Thdrese,  "if  you  would  insist  upon  those  people  at  the 
opera  paying  you  what  they  owe  you. B  These  words  were 
accompanied  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  intended  to 
convey  a  vast  idea  of  her  own  opinion. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  269 

Rousseau  made  no  reply;  indeed  he  appeared  to  me 
like  a  frightened  child  in  the  presence  of  its  nurse;  and 
I  could  quickly  see,  that  from  the  moment  of  her  enter- 
ing the  room  he  had  become  restless  and  dejected,  he 
fidgeted  on  his  seat,  and  seemed  like  a  person  in  exces- 
sive pain.  At  length  he  rose,  and  requesting  my  pardon 
for  absenting  himself,  he  added,  (<  My  wife  will  have  the 
honour  to  entertain  you  whilst  I  am  away.*  With  these 
words  he  opened  a  small  glass-door,  and  disappeared  in 
the  neighbouring  room. 

When  we  were  alone  with  The'rese,  she  lost  no  time  in 
opening  the  conversation. 

<(  Madam,*  cried  she,  <(  I  trust  you  will  have  the  goodness 
to  excuse  M.  Rousseau;  he  is  very  unwell;  it  is  really 
extremely  vexatious.® 

I  replied  that  M.  Rousseau  had  made  his  own  excuses. 
Just  then  The'rese,  wishing  to  give  herself  the  appearance 
of  great  utility,  cried  out, 

«  Am  I  wanted  there,   M.   Rousseau  ? * 

<(No,  no,  no,*  replied  Jean  Jacques,  in  a  faint  voice, 
which  died  away  as  if  at  a  distance. 

He  soon  after  re-entered  the  room. 

(<  Madam,  *  said  he,  (<  have  the  kindness  to  place  your 
music  in  other  hands  to  copy ;  I  am  truly  concerned  that  I 
cannot  execute  your  wishes,  but  I  feel  too  ill  to  set  about 
it  directly." 

I  replied,  that  I  was  in  no  hurry;  that  I  should  be  in 
Paris  some  time  yet,  and  that  he  might  copy  it  at  his 
leisure.  It  was  then  settled  that  it  should  be  ready  within 
a  week  from  that  time;  upon  which  I  rose,  and  cere- 
moniously saluting  The'rese,  was  conducted  to  the  door 
by  M.  Rousseau,  whose  politeness  led  him  to  escort  me 
thither,  holding  his  cap  in  his  hand.  I  retired,  filled  with 
admiration,  respect,  and  pity. 

When  next  I  saw  the  due  d'Aiguillon,  I  could  not  re- 
frain from  relating  to  him  all  that  had  happened.  My 
recital  inspired  him  with  the  most  lively  curiosity  to  see 
Rousseau,  whom  he  had  never  met  in  society.  It  was 
then  agreed,  that  when  I  went  to  fetch  my  music  he 
should  accompany  me,  disguised  in  a  similar  manner  to 


270  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

myself,  and  that  I  should  pass  him  off  as  my  uncle.  At 
the  end  of  the  eight  days  I  repaired  early  as  before 
to  Paris;  the  duke  was  not  long  in  joining  me  there. 
He  was  so  inimitably  well  disguised,  that  no  person  would 
ever  have  detected  the  most  elegant  nobleman  of  the  court 
of  France  beneath  the  garb  of  a  plain  country  squire. 
We  set  out  laughing  like  simpletons  at  the  easy  air 
with  which  he  wore  his  new  costume ;  nevertheless  our 
gaiety  disappeared  as  we  reached  the  habitation  of  J.  J. 
Rousseau.  Spite  of  ourselves  we  were  compelled  to 
honour  and  respect  the  man  of  talent  and  genius,  who 
preferred  independence  of  ideas  to  riches,  and  before 
whom  rank  and  power  were  compelled  to  lay  aside  their 
unmeaning  trappings  ere  they  could  reach  his  presence. 
When  we  reached  the  fifth  landing-place  I  rang,  and 
this  time  the  door  was  opened  by  TheYese,  who  told  us 
M.  Rousseau  was  out. 

(<  But,  madam, w  answered  I,  (<  I  am  here  by  the  direc- 
tion of  your  husband  to  fetch  away  the  music  he  has 
been  engaged  in  copying  for  me.* 

(<Ah,  madam,®  exclaimed  she,  <(is  it  you?  I  did  not 
recollect  you  again;  pray  walk  in.  M.  Rousseau  will  be 
sure  to  be  at  home  for  you. w 

(<  So,  then, "  thought  I,  <(  even  genius  has  its  visiting 
lists.*  We  entered;  Jean  Jacques  formally  saluted  us, 
and  invited  us  to  be  seated.  He  then  gave  me  my 
music;  I  inquired  what  it  came  to;  he  consulted  a  little 
memorandum  which  lay  upon  the  table,  and  replied,  *  So 
many  pages,  so  much  paper,  eighteen  livres  twelve 
sous;*  which,  of  course,  I  instantly  paid.  The  due 
d'Aiguillon,  whom  I  styled  my  uncle,  was  endeavoring 
to  lead  Rousseau  into  conversation,  when  the  outer  bell 
rung.  Thdrese  went  to  open  the  door,  and  a  gentleman 
entered,  of  mature  age,  although  still  preserving  his  good 
looks.  The  duke  regarded  him  in  silence  and  immedi- 
ately made  signs  for  me  to  hasten  our  departure;  I 
obeyed,  and  took  leave  of  Rousseau,  with  many  thanks 
for  his  punctuality.  He  accompanied  us  as  before  to 
the  door,  and  there  I  quitted  him  never  to  see  him  more. 
As  we  were  descending  the  staircase,  M.  d'Aiguillon  told 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  271 

me  that  the  person  who  had  so  hastened  our  departure 
was  Duclas,  and  that  his  hurry  to  quit  Rousseau  arose 
from  his  dread  of  being  recognised  by  him.  Although 
M.  Duclas  was  a  very  excellent  man,  I  must  own  that 
I  owed  no  small  grudge  for  a  visit  which  had  thus 
abridged  ours. 

In  the  evening  the  due  d'Aigiiillon  and  myself  related 
to  the  king  our  morning's  pilgrimage.  I  likewise  re- 
counted my  former  visit,  which  I  had  concealed  until 
now.  Louis  XV.  seemed  greatly  interested  with  the  re- 
cital of  it;  he  asked  me  a  thousand  questions,  and  would 
fain  hear  the  most  trifling  particulars. 

<(I  shall  never  forget,*  said  Louis  XV.,  "the  amazing 
success  obtained  by  his  * Devin  du  Village.**  There  cer- 
tainly were  some  beautiful  airs,  and  the  king  began  to 
hum  over  the  song  of 

H-J'ai  perdu  tout  man  bonheur? 

<(  Yes,  madam, M  continued  his  majesty,  (<  I  promise  you, 
that  had  Rousseau  after  his  success  chosen  to  step  for- 
ward as  a  candidate  for  public  favour,  he  would  soon 
have  overthrown  Voltaire.* 

"Pardon  me,"  replied  I;  "but  I  cannot  believe  that 
would  have  been  possible  under  any  circumstances. " 

"  And  why  not  ? "  asked  the  king ;  <(  he  was  a  man  of 
great  talent. " 

<(  Doubtless,  sire,  but  not  of  the  kind  to  compete  with 
Voltaire. " 

The  king  then  changed  the  conversation  to  The"rese, 
inquiring  whether  she  possessed  any  attractions? 

(<  None  whatever,  sire, "  replied  the  duke ;  *  at  least 
none  that  we  could  perceive." 

<(In  that  case,"  rejoined  his  majesty,  "she  must  have 
charmed  her  master  by  some  of  those  unseen  perfections 
which  take  the  deepest  hold  of  the  heart ;  besides  I  know 
not  why  we  should  think  it  strange  that  others  see  with 
different  eyes  to  ourselves." 

I  made  no  secret  with  the  comte  Jean  of  my  visit, 
and  he  likewise  expressed  his  desire  to  know  a  man  so 
justly  celebrated,  and,  in  its  proper  place,  you  may  hear 


272  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

how  he  managed  to  effect  this,  and  what  befell  him  in 
consequence  —  but,  to  finish  for  the  present  with  Rous- 
seau, for  I  will  not  promise  that  I  shall  not  again  indulge 
in  speaking  of  him.  I  will  just  say,  that  after  the  lapse 
of  two  or  three  days  from  the  time  of  my  last  visit,  the 
idea  occurred  to  me  of  sending  him  a  thousand  crowns 
in  an  Indian  casket.  This  I  sent  by  a  servant  out  of 
livery,  whom  I  strictly  enjoined  not  to  name  me  but  to 
say  simply  that  he  came  from  a  lady.  He  brought  back 
the  casket  to  me  unopened,  and  the  following  billet  from 
Rousseau :  — 

*  MADAM, —  I  send  back  the  present  you  would  force  upon  my  ac- 
ceptance in  so  concealed  a  manner;  if  it  be  offered  as  a  testimony 
of  your  esteem  I  may  possibly  accept  it,  when  you  permit  me  to 
know  the  hand  from  which  it  comes.  Be  assured,  madam,  that  there 
is  much  truth  in  the  assertion  of  its  being  more  easy  to  give  than  to 
receive. 

*I  have  the  honour  to  remain,  madam,  yours,  etc.,  etc., 

«J.  J.  ROUSSEAU.* 

This  was  rather  an  uncouth  manner  of  refusing ;  never- 
theless, when  at  this  distance  of  time  I  review  the  trans- 
action, I  cannot  help  admitting  that  I  well  deserved  it. 
Perhaps  when  it  first  occurred  I  might  have  felt  piqued, 
but  since  I  have  quitted  the  court  I  have  again  read 
over  the  works  of  J.  J.  Rousseau,  and  I  now  speak  of  him, 
as  you  see,  without  one  particle  of  resentment. 

I  must  now  speak  to  you  of  a  new  acquaintance  I  made 
about  this  period  —  that  of  the  two  duchesses  d'Aiguil- 
lon.  From  my  first  entrance  into  the  chateau  until 
the  close  of  1770,  madame  d'Aiguillon,  the  daughter- 
in-law,  observed  a  sort  of  armed  neutrality  towards  me; 
true,  she  never  visited  me,  but  she  always  met  me  with 
apparent  satisfaction  at  the  houses  of  others;  thus  she 
managed  to  steer  clear  of  one  dangerous  extreme  or 
the  other  till  the  downfall  of  the  des  Choiseuls ;  when  the 
due  d'Aiguillon  having  been  nominated  to  the  ministry, 
she  perceived  that  she  could  not,  without  great  ingratitude, 
omit  calling  to  offer  me  her  acknowledgments,  and  ac- 
cordingly she  came.  On  my  side,  I  left  no  means  untried 
of  rendering  myself  agreeable  to  her ;  and  so  well  did 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  273 

I  succeed,  that  from  that  moment  her  valuable  friendship 
was  bestowed  on  me  with  a  sincerity  which  even  my  un- 
fortunate reverses  have  been  unable  to  shake;  and  we 
are  to  this  day  the  same  firm  and  true  friends  we  were  in 
the  zenith  of  my  power.  Not  that  I  would  seek  to  justify 
the  injury  she  sought  to  do  our  queen,  but  I  may  and 
do  congratulate  myself,  that  the  same  warmth  which  per- 
vades her  hatreds  likewise  influences  her  friendships. 

I  cannot  equally  boast  of  the  treatment  I  received  from 
the  duchess  dowager  d'Aiguillon,  who,  as  well  as  her 
daughter-in-law,  came  to  see  me  upon  the  promotion  of 
her  son.  She  overloaded  me  with  caresses,  and  even 
exceeded  her  daughter-in-law  in  protestations  of  devotion 
and  gratitude.  You  shpuld  have  heard  her  extol  my 
beauty,  wit,  and  sweetness  of  disposition;  she,  in  fact,  so 
overwhelmed  me  with  her  surfeiting  praises,  that  at  last 
I  became  convinced  that,  of  the  thousand  flattering  things 
she  continually  addressed  to  me,  not  one  was  her  can- 
did opinion;  and  I  was  right,  for  I  soon  learned,  that 
in  her  circle  of  intimates  at  the  houses  of  the  Beauffre- 
mons,  the  Brionnes,  and  above  all,  the  marquise  du  Def- 
fant,  she  justified  her  acquaintance  with  me,  by  saying  it 
was  a  sacrifice  made  to  the  interests  of  her  son,  and 
amused  these  ladies  by  censuring  my  every  word  and 
look.  The  dowager's  double-dealing  greatly  annoyed  me ; 
nevertheless,  not  wishing  to  vex  her  son,  or  her  daughter- 
in-law,  I  affected  to  be  ignorant  of  her  dishonourable 
conduct.  However,  I  could  not  long  repress  my  indig- 
nation, and  one  day  that  she  was  praising  me  most  ex- 
travagantly, I  exclaimed,  <{  Ah,  madam,  how  kind  it 
would  be  of  you  to  reserve  one  of  these  pretty  speeches 
to  repeat  at  madame  du  Deffant's. w  This  blow,  so  strong 
yet  just,  rather  surprised  her;  but,  quickly  rallying  her 
courage,  she  endeavoured  to  persuade  me  that  she  always 
spoke  of  me  in  the  same  terms.  <(  It  may  be  so,"  replied 
I ;  (<  but  I  fear  that  you  say  so  many  flattering  things  to 
me,  that  you  have  not  one  left  when  out  of  my  sight.* 

The  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix  used  to  say,  that  a  caress 
from  madame  d'Aiguillon  was  not  less  to  be  dreaded  than 
the  bite  of  M.  d'Ayen.  Yet  the  duchess  dowager  has 
18 


274  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

obtained  a  first-rate  reputation  for  goodness;  every  one 
styled  her  the  good  duchesse  d'Aiguillon.  And  why,  do 
you  suppose  ?  Because  she  was  one  of  those  fat,  fresh, 
portly-looking  dames  of  whom  you  would  have  said,  her 
very  face  and  figure  bespoke  the  contented  goodness  of 
her  disposition;  for  who  would  ever  suspect  malice  could 
lurk  in  so  much  embonpoint  ?  I  think  I  have  already  told 
you  that  this  lady  expired  whilst  bathing,  of  an  attack 
of  apoplexy,  in  the  month  of  June,  1772.  Her  son  shed 
many  tears  at  her  loss,  whilst  I  experienced  but  a  very 
moderate  share  of  grief. 

Adieu,  my  friend;  if  you  are  not  already  terrified  at 
the  multiplicity  of  the  letters  which  compose  my  journal, 
I  have  yet  much  to  say;  and  I  flatter  myself  the  con- 
tinuance of  my  adventures  will  be  found  no  less  inter- 
esting than  those  you  have  perused. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

The  king's  friends — The  due  de  Fronsac  —  The  due  d'Ayen's  remark 
—  Manner  of  living  at  court — The  marquis  de  Dreux — Breze — 
Education  of  Louis  XV.  —  The  Parc-aux-Cerfs  —  Its  household  — 
Its  inmates  — Mere  Bompart  —  Livres  expended  on  the  Parc-aux- 
Cerfs —  Good  advice  —  Madame. 

I  WAS  now  firmly  fixed  at  court,  the  king1,  more  than 
ever  devoted  to  me,  seemed  unable  to  dispense  with 
my  constant  presence.  I  had  so  successfully  studied 
his  habits  and  peculiarities,  that  my  empire  over  him 
was  established  on  a  basis  too  firm  to  be  shaken,  whilst 
my  power  and  unbounded  influence  convinced  my  ene- 
mies, that,  so  long  as  the  present  monarch  sat  upon  the 
throne  of  France,  their  attempts  at  diminishing  my  credit 
and  influence  would  only  recoil  upon  themselves.  Louis 
XV.  generally  supped  in  my  apartments  every  evening, 
unless  indeed,  by  way  of  change,  I  went  to  sup  with 
him.  Our  guests  were  of  course  of  the  first  order,  but 
yet  not  of  the  most  exemplary  morals.  These  persons 
had  tact,  and  saw  that,  to  please  the  king,  they  must  not 
surpass  him;  so  that,  if  by  chance  he  should  reflect  on 
himself,  he  would  appear  to  advantage  amongst  them. 
Poor  courtiers!  It  was  labour  in  vain.  The  king  was 
in  too  much  fear  of  knowing  himself  to  understand  that 
study:  he  knew  the  penetration  and  severity  of  his  own 
judgment,  and  on  no  account  would  he  exercise  it  at 
his  own  expense. 

The  due  de  Duras,  although  a  man  of  little  wit,  was 
yet  gay  and  always  lively.  He  amused  me;  I  liked 
his  buoyant  disposition,  and  forgave  him  although  he  had 
ranged  himself  with  the  protesting  peers.  In  fact,  I 
could  not  be  angry  with  him.  The  folly  of  opposition 
had  only  seized  on  him  because  it  was  epidemic.  -  The 

(275) 


276  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

dear  duke  had  found  himself  with  wolves,  and  had  begun 
to  howl  with  them.  I  am  sure  that  he  was  astonished 
at  himself  when  he  remembered  the  signature  which 
he  had  given,  and  the  love  he  had  testified  for  the  old 
parliament,  for  which,  in  fact,  he  cared  no  more  than 
Jean  de  Vert.  God  knows  how  he  compensated  for  this 
little  folly  at  the  chateau.  It  was  by  redoubling  his  as- 
siduities to  the  king,  and  by  incessant  attentions  to  me.  In 
general,  those  who  wished  to  thrive  at  court  only  sought 
how  to  make  their  courage  remembered;  M.  de  Duras  was 
only  employed  in  making  his  forgotten. 

The  prince  de  Terigny,  the  comte  d'Escars,  the  due  de 
Fleury,  were  not  the  least  amusing.  They  kept  up  a 
lively  strain  of  conversation,  and  the  king  laughed  out- 
rageously. But  the  vilest  of  the  party  was  the  due  de 
Fronsac.  Ye  gods !  what  a  wretch !  To  speak  ill  of  him 
is  no  sin.  A  mangled  likeness  of  his  father,  he  had  all  his 
faults  with  not  one  of  his  merits.  He  was  perpetually 
changing  his  mistresses,  but  it  cannot  be  said  whether  it 
was  inconstancy  on  his  part,  or  disgust  on  theirs,  but  the 
latter  appears  to  me  most  probable.  Though  young,  he 
was  devoured  by  gout  or  some  other  infirmity,  but  it 
was  called  gout  out  of  deference  to  the  house  of  Richelieu. 

They  talked  of  the  duchess  de ,  whose  husband  was 

said  to  have  poisoned  her. 

The  saints  of  Versailles  —  the  due  de  la  Vauguyon, 
the  due  d'Estissac,  and  M.  de  Durfort  —  did  like  others. 
These  persons  practised  religion  in  the  face  of  the  world, 
and  abstained  from  loose  conversation  in  presence  of 
their  own  families;  but  with  the  king  they  laid  aside 
their  religion  and  reserve,  so  that  these  hypocrites  had 
in  the  city  all  the  honours  of  devotion,  and  in  the  royal 
apartments  all  the  advantages  of  loose  conduct.  As  for 
me,  I  was  at  Versailles  the  same  as  everywhere  else. 
To  please  the  king  I  had  only  to  be  myself.  I  relied, 
for  the  future,  on  my  uniformity  of  conduct.  What 
charmed  him  in  the  evening,  would  delight  again  the 
next  day.  He  had  an  equilibrium  of  pleasure,  a  balance 
of  amusement  which  can  hardly  be  described;  it  was 
every  day  the  same  variety;  the  same  journeys,  the  same 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  277 

fetes,  the  balls,  the  theatres,  all  came  round  at  fixed  periods, 
with  the  most  monotonous  regularity.  In  fact,  the 
people  knew  exactly  when  to  laugh  and  when  to  look 
grave. 

There  was  in  the  chateau  a  most  singular  character, 
the  grand  master  of  the  ceremonies  of  France.  His  great- 
grandfather, his  grandfather,  his  father,  who  had  ful- 
filled these  functions  for  a  century,  had  transmitted  to  him 
their  understanding  and  their  duties.  All  he  thought  of 
was  how  to  regulate  the  motions  and  steps  of  every  per- 
son at  court.  He  adored  the  dauphin  and  dauphiness, 
because  they  both  diverted  and  fatigued  themselves  ac- 
cording to  the  rules  in  such  cases  made  and  provided. 
He  was  always  preaching  to  me  and  quoted  against  me 
the  precedents  of  Diane  de  Poitiers,  or  Gabrielle  d'Estre'es. 
One  day  he  told  me  that  all  the  misfortunes  of  made- 
moiselle de  la  Valliere  occurred  in  consequence  of  her 
neglect  of  etiquette.  He  would  have  had  all  matters 
pass  at  court  during  the  old  age  of  Louis  XV.  as  at  the 
period  of  the  childhood  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  would  fain 
have  had  the  administration  of  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs,  that 
he  might  have  arranged  all  with  due  ceremonies. 

Since  this  word  Parc-aux-Cerfs  has  escaped  my  pen,  I 
will  tell  you  something  of  it.  Do  you  know,  my  friend, 
that  but  little  is  known  of  this  place,  of  which  so  much 
has  been  said.  I  can  tell  you,  better  than  any  other  per- 
son, what  it  really  was,  for  I,  like  the  marquise  de  Pom- 
padour took  upon  myself  the  superintendence  of  it,  and 
busied  myself  with  what  they  did  there.  It  was,  entre 
nous,  the  black  spot  in  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.,  and  will 
cost  me  much  pain  to  describe. 

The  vices  of  Louis  XV.  were  the  result  of  bad  edu- 
cation. When  an  infant,  they  gave  him  for  governor  the 
vainest,  most  coxcombical,  stupidest  of  men — the  due  de 
Villeroi,  who  had  so  well  served  the  king  (si  bien  servi 
le  rot).* 

Never  had  courtier  so  much  courtiership  as  he.     He  saw 

*The  countess  alludes  to  the  chanson  written,  after  his  famous 
defeat,  «  Villeroi,  Villeroi  a  fort  bien  servi  I e  roi» 


278  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

the  young  prince  from  morning  till  night,  and  from  morn- 
ing till  night  he  was  incessantly  repeating  in  his  ears  that 
his  future  subjects  were  born  for  him,  and  that  they 
were  all  dependent  on  his  good  and  gracious  pleasure. 
Such  lessons  daily  repeated,  necessarily  destroyed  the 
wise  instructions  of  Massillon.  When  grown  up,  Louis 
XV.  saw  the  libertinism  of  cardinal  Dubois  and  the  orgies 
of  the  regency:  madame  de  Maillis'  shameless  conduct  was 
before  his  eyes  and  Richelieu's  also.  Louis  XV.  could 
not  conduct  himself  differently  from  his  ministers  and  his 
family.  His  timid  character  was  formed  upon  the 
example  of  others.  At  first  he  selected  his  own  mistresses, 
but  afterwards  he  chose  some  one  who  took  that  trouble 
off  his  hands.  Lebel  became  purveyor  in  chief  to  his 
pleasures;  and  controlled  in  Versailles  the  house  known 
as  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs. 

As  soon  as  the  courtiers  knew  of  the  existence  and 
purposes  of  this  house,  they  intrigued  for  the  control  of 
it.  The  king  laughed  at  all  their  efforts,  and  left  the 
whole  management  to  Lebel,  under  the  superintendence 
of  the  comte  de  Saint-Florentin,  minister  of  the  royal 
household.  They  installed  there,  however,  a  sort  of  mil- 
itary chief,  formerly  a  major  of  infantry,  who  was  called, 
jestingly,  M.  de  Cervieres;  his  functions  consisted  in  an 
active  surveillance,  and  in  preventing  young  men  from 
penetrating  the  seraglio.  The  soldiers  at  the  nearest  sta- 
tion had  orders  to  obey  his  first  summons.  His  pay 
was  twelve  thousand  livres  a  year. 

A  female  styled  the  surintendante  had  the  management 
of  the  domestic  affairs;  she  ruled  with  despotic  sway; 
controlled  the  expenses;  preserved  good  order;  and  regu- 
lated the  amusement  of  her  charges,  taking  care  that 
they  did  not  mix  one  with  the  other.  She  was  an 
elderly  canoness  of  a  noble  order,  belonging  to  one  of 
the  best  families  in  Burgundy.  She  was  only  known  at 
the  Pare  as  Madame,  and  no  one  ventured  to  give  her 
any  other  title.  Shortly  after  the  decease  of  Mme.  de 
Pompadour,  she  had  succeeded  in  this  employ  a  woman 
of  low  rank,  who  had  a  most  astonishing  mind.  Louis 
XV.  thought  very  highly  of  her,  and  said  that  if  she 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  279 

were  a  man  he  would  have  made  her  his  minister.  She 
had  put  the  harem  on  an  admirable  system,  and  in- 
structed the  odalisques  in  all  the  necessary  etiquette. 

The  Madame  of  my  time  was  a  woman  of  noble  ap- 
pearance, tall,  ascetic,  with  a  keen  eye  and  imperious 
manner.  She  expressed  a  sovereign  contempt  for  all  the 
low-born  beauties  confided  to  her  trust.  However,  she 
did  not  treat  her  wards  ill,  for  some  one  of  them  might 
produce  a  passion  in  the  heart  of  the  king,  and  she  was 
determined  to  be  prepared  for  whatever  might  fall  out. 
As  to  the  noble  ladies,  they  were  her  favourites. 
Madame  did  not  divide  her  flock  into  fair  and  dark, 
which  would  have  been  natural,  but  into  noble  and  ig- 
noble. 

Besides  Madame,  there  were  two  under-mistresses, 
whose  duties  consisted  in  keeping  company  with  the  young 
ladies  who  were  placed  there.  They  sometimes  dined 
with  new  comers,  instructed  them  in  polite  behaviour, 
and  aided  them  in  their  musical  lessons,  or  in  dancing, 
history,  and  literature  in  which  these  Jltves  were  in- 
structed. Then  followed  a  dozen  women  of  lower  station, 
creatures  for  any  service,  half  waiting  women,  half  com- 
panions, who  kept  watch  over  the  young  ladies,  and  neg- 
lected nothing  that  could  injure  each  other  at  every 
opportunity.  The  work  of  the  house  was  performed  by 
proper  servants  and  male  domestics,  chosen  expressly 
for  their  age  and  ugliness.  They  were  paid  high,  but 
in  return  for  the  least  indiscretion  on  their  part,  they 
were  sent  to  linger  out  their  existence  in  a  state  prison. 
A  severe  watch  was  kept  over  every  person  of  either 
sex  in  this  mysterious  establishment.  It  was  requisite, 
in  fact,  that  an  impenetrable  veil  should  be  cast  over 
the  frailties  of  the  king;  and  that  the  public  should  know 
nothing  of  what  occurred  at  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs. 

The  general  term  tteves  was  applied  to  the  young 
persons  who  were  kept  there.  They  were  of  all  ages 
from  nine  to  eighteen  years.  Until  fifteen  they  were 
kept  in  total  ignorance  of  the  city  which  they  inhabited. 
When  they  attained  that  age,  no  more  mystery  was  made 
of  it;  they  only  endeavoured  to  prevent  them  from  be- 


2«o  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

lieving  that  they  were  destined  for  the  king's  service. 
Sometimes  they  were  told  that  they  were  imprisoned  as 
well  as  their  family ;  sometimes,  a  lover  rich  and  power- 
ful kept  them  concealed  to  satisfy  his  love.  One  thought 
she  belonged  to  a  German  prince,  another  to  an  English 
lord.  There  were  some,  however,  who,  better  informed, 
either  by  their  predecessors,  or  by  chance,  knew  pre- 
cisely what  was  in  store  for  them,  and  accordingly  built 
some  exceedingly  fine  castles  in  the  air.  But  when  they 
were  suspected  to  be  so  knowing,  they  were  sent  away, 
and  either  married  (if  pregnant),  or  compelled  to  enter 
a  cloister  or  chapter. 

The  noble  damsels  were  served  with  peculiar  eti- 
quette, their  servants  wore  a  green  livery.  Those  who 
belonged  to  the  ignobles,  had  their  valets  clothed  only 
in  gray.  The  king  had  arranged  this,  and  applauded 
it  as  one  of  the  most  admirable  decisions  of  his  life, 
and  contended  with  me  that  the  families  who  paid  this 
impost  for  his  pleasures,  were  greatly  indebted  to  him 
for  it.  I  assure  you,  my  friend,  that  there  are  often 
very  peculiar  ideas  in  the  head  of  a  king. 

After  madame,  the  sous-madames,  the  young  ladies, 
came  a  lady,  who  had  no  title  ill  the  house,  because 
she  "carried  on  the  war"  out  of  doors,  but  still  was  a 
most  useful  personage.  In  very  truth  la  mere  Bompart 
was  a  wonderful  animal.  Paint  to  yourself  a  woman  rather 
small  than  large,  rather  fat  than  lean,  rather  old  than 
young,  with  a  good  foot,  a  good  eye,  as  robust  as  a 
trooper,  with  a  decided  <(  call )J  for  intrigue,  drinking 
nothing  but  wine,  telling  nothing  but  lies,  swearing  by, 
or  denying  God,  as  suited  her  purpose.  Fancy  such  an 
one,  and  you  will  have  before  you  la  mire  Bompart, 
pourvoyeuse  en  chef  des  celludes  du  Parc-aux-Cerfs. 

She  was  in  correspondence  with  all  sorts  of  persons, 
with  the  most  celebrated  appareilleuses,  and  of  course 
with  the  most  noted  pimps.  She  treated  Lebel  as  her 
equal,  went  familiarly  to  M.  de  Sartines,  and  occasion- 
ally condescended  to  visit  M.  de  Saint-Florentin.  Every- 
body at  court  received  her  graciously;  everybody  but 
the  king  and  myself,  who  held  her  in  equal  horror. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  281 

The  Parc-aux-Cerfs  cost  enormous  sums.  The  lowest 
expense  was  calculated  at  150,000  livres,  to  pay  only  the 
functionaries  and  the  domestics,  the  education  and  the 
board  of  the  Steves,  etc.  This  does  not  include  the  cost 
of  the  recruiting  service,  the  indemnities  paid  to  families, 
the  dowry  given  with  them  in  marriage,  the  presents 
made  to  them,  and  the  expenses  of  the  illegitimate 
children:  this  was  enormous  in  cost,  at  least  2,000,000 
livres  a  year,  and  yet  I  make  the  lowest  estimation.  The 
Parc-aux-Cerfs  was  kept  up  for  thirty-four  years:  it  cost 
annually  4  or  5,000,000  livres,  and  that  will  amount  to 
nearly  150,000,000  (£  6,250,000).  If  you  think  I  mis- 
take, go  through  the  calculation. 

A  short  time  after  my  sojourn  at  Versailles,  when  I 
was  the  acknowledged  mistress  of  the  king,  the  due  de 
Richelieu  asked  me  if  I  had  heard  of  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs  ? 
I  asked  him,  in  my  turn,  what  he  meant,  and  if  I  could 
procure  any  account  of  the  place.  He  then  told  me  of 
the  care  which  madame  de  Pompadour  bestowed  on 
the  place,  the  advantage  she  drew  from  it,  and  assured 
me  of  the  necessity  for  following  her  example.  I  spoke 
of  this  to  comte  Jean,  and  begged  his  advice.  My  brother- 
in-law  replied:  — 

(<  You  must  do  as  the  marquise  de  Pompadour  did,  and 
as  the  due  de  Richelieu  has  advised.  They  spend  a  vast 
deal  of  money  in  this  house,  and  I  undertake  to  look 
over  their  accounts.  Nominate  me  your  prime  minister, 
and  I  shall  be  the  happiest  of  men.  It  is  impossible  but 
there  must  be  something  to  be  gleaned  from  his  majesty. w 

<(  In  truth,  my  dear  brother-in-law,  you  would  be  in 
your  element;  money  to  handle  and  young  girls  to  man- 
age. What  more  could  you  covet  ?  You  will  establish 
a  gaming  table  at  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs,  and  never  quit  it 
again. M 

Comte  Jean  began  to  laugh,  and  then  seriously  advised 
me  to  follow  the  plain  counsel  of  the  due  de  Richelieu. 

I  decided  on  doing  so.  I  sent  for  Madame.  She  came 
with  all  the  dignity  of  an  abbess  of  a  regally  founded 
convent.  But  in  spite  of  her  pretensions,  I  only  saw  in 
her  the  rival  of  Gourdan  and  Paris,  and  treated  her  as 


282  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

such;  that  is,  with  some  contempt,  for  with  that  feeling 
her  office  inspired  me.  She  told  me  all  I  have  described 
to  you,  and  many  other  things  which  have  since  escaped 
me.  At  that  time  there  were  only  four  Jfeves  in  the 
house.  When  she  had  given  me  all  the  details  I  wished, 
I  sent  her  away,  desiring  to  be  informed  of  all  that 
passed  in  her  establishment. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Fete  given  by  the  comtesse  de  Valentinois  —  The  comtesse  du 
Barry  feigns  an  indisposition  —  Her  dress  —  The  due  de  Cosse  — 
The  comte  and  comtesse  de  Provence  —  Dramatic  entertainment  — 
Favart  and  Voisenon  —  A  few  observations  —  A  pension  —  The 
marechale  de  Luxembourg  —  Adventure  of  M.  de  Bombelles  —  Copy 
of  a  letter  addressed  to  him  —  Louis  XV.  —  M.  de  Maupeou  and 
madame  du  Barry. 

MY  PRESENT  situation  was  not  a  little  embarrassing; 
known  and  recognised  as  the  mistress  of  the  king, 
it  but  ill  accorded  with  my  feelings  to  be  compelled 
to  add  to  that  title  the  superintendent  of  his  pleasures; 
and  I  had  not  yet  been  sufficiently  initiated  into  the  in- 
trigues of  a  court  life  to  accept  this  strange  charge  without 
manifest  dislike  and  hesitation.  Nevertheless,  whilst  so 
many  were  contending  for  the  honour  of  that  which  I 
condemned,  I  was  compelled  to  stifle  my  feelings  and 
resign  myself  to  the  bad  as  well  as  the  good  afforded  by 
my  present  situation;  at  a  future  period  I  shall  have 
occasion  again  to  revert  to  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs  during  the 
period  of  my  reign,  but  for  the  present  I  wish  to  change 
the  subject  by  relating  to  you  what  befell  me  at  a  fete 
given  me  by  madame  de  Valentinois,  while  she  feigned 
to  give  it  in  the  honour  of  madame  de  Provence. 

The  comtesse  de  Valentinois,  flattered  by  the  kindness  of 
the  dauphiness's  manner  towards  her,  and  wishing  still 
further  to  insinuate  herself  into  her  favour,  imagined 
she  should  promote  her  object  by  requesting  that  princess 
would  do  her  the  honour  to  pass  an  evening  at  her  house ; 
her  request  was  granted,  and  that  too  before  the  duchesse 
de  la  Vauguyon  could  interfere  to  prevent  it.  Furious 
at  not  having  been  apprized  of  the  invitation  till  too  late 
to  cause  its  rejection,  she  vowed  to  make  the  triumphant 

(283) 


284  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

countess  pay  dearly  for  her  triumph;  for  my  own  part  I 
troubled  myself  very  little  with  the  success  of  madame  de 
Valentinois,  which,  in  fact,  I  perceived  would  rather  assist 
than  interfere  with  my  projects.  Hitherto  I  had  not  made 
my  appearance  at  any  of  the  houses  of  the  nobility  when 
the  princesses  were  invited  thither;  this  clearly  proved  to 
the  public,  in  general,  how  great  was  the  opposition  I 
experienced  from  the  court  party.  I  was  now  delighted  to 
prove  to  the  Parisians  that  I  was  not  always  to  lead  the  life 
of  a  recluse,  but  that  I  could  freely  present  myself  at  those 
parties  to  which  other  ladies  were  invited.  However, 
as  my  friends  apprehended  that  the  comtesse  de  Provence 
might  prevail  upon  her  lady  of  honour  not  to  invite  me,  by 
the  advice  of  the  chancellor  and  the  minister  for  foreign 
affairs,  it  was  arranged  that  I  should  for  a  week  previous 
to  the  fete  feign  a  severe  indisposition.  It  would  be  im- 
possible to  describe  the  joy  with  which  these  false  tidings 
were  received  by  my  enemies.  We  are  all  apt  to  picture 
things  as  we  would  have  them,  and  already  the  eager 
imaginations  of  the  opposing  party  had  converted  the 
account  of  my  illness  into  an  incurable  and  mortal  disease. 
Every  hour  my  friends  brought  me  in  fresh  anecdotes 
of  the  avidity  with  which  the  rumour  of  my  dangerous 
state  had  been  received,  whilst  I  lay  upon  what  the 
credulous  hopes  of  my  enemies  had  determined  to  be 
my  death-bed,  laughing  heartily  at  their  folly,  and  pre- 
paring fresh  schemes  to  confound  and  disappoint  their 
anticipated  triumph. 

One  very  important  object  of  consideration  was  my 
dress  for  the  coming  occasion.  The  king  presented  me 
with  a  new  set  of  jewels,  and  himself  selected  the  materials 
for  my  robe  and  train,  which  were  to  be  composed  of  a 
rich  green  satin  embroidered  with  gold,  trimmed  with 
wreaths  of  roses,  and  looped  up  with  pearls;  the  lower 
part  of  this  magnificent  dress  was  trimmed  with  a  pro- 
fusion of  the  finest  Flemish  lace.  I  wore  on  my  head 
a  garland  of  full  blown  roses,  composed  of  the  finest 
green  and  gold  work;  round  my  forehead  was  a  string 
of  beautiful  pearls,  from  the  centre  of  which  depended 
a  diamond  star;  add  to  this  a  pair  of  splendid  ear-rings, 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  285 

valued  at  100,000  crowns,  with  a  variety  of  jewels 
equally  costly,  and  you  may  form  some  idea  of  my  ap- 
pearance on  that  eventful  evening.  The  king,  who  pre- 
sided at  my  toilette,  could  not  repress  his  admiration; 
he  even  insisted  upon  clasping  my  necklace,  in  order 
that  he  might,  as  he  said,  flatter  himself  with  having 
completed  such  a  triumph  of  nature  and  art. 

At  the  hour  fixed  upon  I  set  out,  conducted  by  the 
dues  d'Aiguillon  and  de  Cosse" ;  and  now  I  remember  I 
have  introduced  this  latter  to  you  for  the  first  time, 
however  I  will  promise  that  it  will  not  be  for  the  last; 
he  possessed,  and  still  possesses  all  the  virtues  of  his 
noble  house,  he  was  impetuous  from  a  deeply  feeling 
heart,  and  proud  from  a  consciousness  of  being  properly 
appreciated.  Young,  handsome,  and  daring,  he  was  pre- 
eminently calculated  both  to  inspire  love,  and  to  feel  it; 
it  was  quite  impossible  for  him  to  fail  in  winning  the 
affections  of  any  female  he  exerted  himself  to  please, 
and  even  at  the  present  time  that  he  has  lost  some  of 
his  earlier  graces,  he  is  still  irresistible  as  ever;  his  nat- 
urally gay  disposition  was  but  ill  suited  to  nourishing 
grave  or  philosophic  reasoning,  but  then  he  was  the  soul 
of  company,  and  possessed  a  fine  and  delicate  wit  which 
ever  vented  itself  in  the  most  brilliant  sallies.  M.  de 
Cosse",  like  the  knights  of  old,  was  wholly  devoted  to  his 
king  and  his  mistress,  and  would,  I  am  sure,  had  oc- 
casion required  it,  have  nobly  died  in  defence  of  either; 
I  only  pray  he  may  never  be  put  to  the  proof.  I  saw 
much  of  him  at  the  beginning  of  our  acquaintance,  but 
as  his  many  amiable  qualities  became  better  known,  I  found 
myself  almost  continually  in  his  society,  indeed  as  I 
have  something  to  confess  in  the  business,  I  could  hardly 
choose  a  better  opportunity  than  the  present,  did  I  not 
recollect  that  the  good  due  d'Aiguillon  is  waiting  all 
this  while  for  me  to  announce  the  entree  of  our  party 
into  the  anteroom  of  Madame  de  Valentinois. 

My  entrance  was  a  complete  coup-de-thtdtre.  I  had 
been  imagined  languishing  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  yet 
there  I  stood  in  all  the  fulness  of  health  and  freshness 
of  beauty.  I  could  very  easily  read  upon  each  eounte- 


286  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

nance  the  vexation  and  rage  my  appearance  of  entire 
freedom  from  all  ailment  excited;  however,  I  proceeded 
without  any  delay  to  the  mistress  of  the  house,  whom  I 
found  busily  engaged  in  seating  her  visitors,  and  playing 
the  amiable  to  the  dauphiness.  This  princess  seemed 
equally  astonished  at  my  unexpected  apparition;  never- 
theless, taken  off  her  guard,  she  could  not  prevent  her- 
self from  courteously  returning  the  profound  salutation  I 
made  her.  As  fof  the  duchesse  de  la  Vauguyon,  when 
she  saw  me,  she  turned  alternately  from  red  to  white, 
and  was  even  weak  enough  to  give  public  vent  to  her 
fury.  The  comte  de  Provence,  who  had  been  told  that 
I  was  not  expected,  began  to  laugh  when  he  perceived 
me,  and  taking  the  first  opportunity  of  approaching  me, 
he  said,  (<Ah,  madame!  so  you  too  can  mystify  your 
friends,  I  see!  Have  a  care;  the  sight  of  charms  like 
yours  is  sufficient  to  strike  terror  into  any  adversaries, 
without  having  recourse  to  any  expedient  to  heighten 
their  effect.*  Saying  this  he  passed  on  without  giving 
me  the  opportunity  of  replying,  as  I  could  have  wished 
to  have  done. 

The  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix,  to  whom  I  had  confided 
my  secret,  and  of  whose  fidelity  I  was  assured,  was 
present  at  the  fete.  I  availed  myself  of  the  offer  of  a 
seat  near  her  and  directly  we  were  seated,  (<  You  are  a 
clever  creature,*  said  she,  <(for  you  have  completely  be- 
wildered all  the  female  part  of  this  evening's  society, 
and  by  way  of  a  finishing  stroke  will  run  away  with  the 
hearts  of  all  the  flutterers  here,  before  the  fair  ladies 
they  were  previously  hovering  around,  have  recovered 
their  first  astonishment." 

"Upon  my  word,*  said  I,  smiling,  <(I  do  not  wonder  at 
the  kind  looks  with  which  the  ladies  favour  me,  if  my 
presence  is  capable  of  producing  so  much  mischief.* 

(<  Pray,  my  dear,  *  answered  the  mare'chale,  <(  be  under 
no  mistake ;  you  might  be  as  much  beloved  as  others  are, 
if  you  did  not  monopolize  the  king's  affections;  the  con- 
sequence is,  that  every  woman  with  even  a  passable  face 
looks  upon  you  as  the  usurper  of  her  right,  and  as  the 
fickle  gentlemen  who  woo  these  gentle  ladies  are  all  ready 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  287 

to  transfer  their  homage  to  you  directly  you  appear,  you 
must  admit  that  your  presence  is  calculated  to  produce 
no  inconsiderable  degree  of  confusion.® 

The  commencement  of  a  play  which  formed  part  of  the 
evening's  entertainment  obliged  us  to  cease  further  con- 
versation. 

The  first  piece  represented  was  (<  Rose  et  Colas, w  a  charm- 
ing pastoral,  to  which  the  music  of  Monsigny  gave  a  fresh 
charm;  the  actors  were  selected  from  among  the  best 
of  the  Comedie  Italienne  —  the  divine  Clairval,  and  the 
fascinating  mademoiselle  Caroline.  I  was  completely 
enchanted  whilst  the  play  lasted ;  I  forgot  both  my  cabals 
and  recent  triumph,  and  for  a  while  believed  myself 
actually  transported  to  the  rural  scenes  it  represented, 
surrounded  by  the  honest  villagers  so  well  depicted;  but 
this  delightful  vision  soon  passed  away,  and  soon,  too 
soon  I  awoke  from  it  to  find  myself  surrounded  by  my 
excellent  friends  at  court. 

*  Rose  et  Colas9  was  followed  by  a  species  of  comedy 
mixed  with  songs.  This  piece  was  wholly  in  honour  of 
the  dauphiness,  with  the  exception  of  some  flattering 
and  gallant  allusions  to  myself  and  some  gross  compli- 
ments to  my  cousin  the  chancellor,  who,  in  new  silk 
robe  and  a  fine  powdered  wig,  was  also  present  at  this 
fete. 

The  performers  in  this  little  piece,  who  were  Favart, 
the  actor,  and  Voisenon,  the  priest,  must  have  been  fully 
satisfied  with  the  reception  they  obtained,  for  the  comedy 
was  applauded  as  though  it  had  been  one  of  the  chefs 
d'oeuvre  of  Voltaire.  In  general  a  private  audience  is  very 
indulgent  so  long  as  the  representation  lasts,  but  no  sooner 
has  the  curtain  fallen  than  they  indulge  in  a  greater 
severity  of  criticism  than  a  public  audience  would  do. 
And  so  it  happened  on  the  evening  in  question ;  one  couplet 
had  particularly  excited  the  discontent  of  the  spectators, 
male  and  female;  I  know  not  what  prophetic  spirit  in- 
spired the  lines. 

The  unfortunate  couplet  was  productive  of  much  offence 
against  the  husband  and  lover  of  madame  Favart,  for 
the  greater  part  of  the  persons  present  perfectly  detested 


288  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

my  poor  cousin,  who  was  *  to  clip  the  wings  of  chicanery.  * 
Favart  managed  to  escape  just  in  time,  and  the  abbe"  de 
Voisenon,  who  was  already  not  in  very  high  favour  with  his 
judges,  was  compelled  to  endure  the  full  weight  of  their 
complaints  and  reproaches ;  every  voice  was  against  him,  and 
even  his  brethren  of  the  French  academy,  departing  from 
their  accustomed  indulgence  upon  such  matters,  openly 
reprimanded  him  for  the  grossness  of  his  flattery ;  the  poor 
abbe*  attempted  to  justify  himself  by  protesting  that  he 
knew  nothing  of  the  hateful  couplet,  and  that  Favart  alone 
was  the  guilty  person  upon  whom  they  should  expend  their 
anger. 

<(  I  am  always, w  cried  he,  *  doomed  to  suffer  for  the 
offences  of  others;  every  kind  of  folly  is  made  a  pres- 
ent to  me." 

(<  Have  a  care,  monsieur  I'abbe",*  exclaimed  d'Alembert, 
who  was  among  the  guests,  <(have  a  care!  men  seldom 
lavish  their  gifts  but  upon  those  who  are  rich  enough 
to  return  the  original  present  in  a  tenfold  degree.8 
This  somewhat  sarcastic  remark  was  most  favourably 
received  by  all  who  heard  it,  it  quickly  circulated 
through  the  room,  while  the  poor,  oppressed  abbe"  pro- 
tested, with  vehement  action. 

The  fete  itself  was  most  splendidly  and  tastefully  con- 
ducted, and  might  have  sent  the  different  visitors  home 
pleased  and  gratified  in  an  eminent  degree,  had  not 
spite  and  ill-nature  suggested  to  madame  de  la  Vau- 
guyon,  that  as  the  chancellor  and  myself  were  present, 
it  must  necessarily  have  been  given  with  a  view  of 
complimenting  us  rather  than  madame  de  Provence.  She 
even  sought  to  irritate  the  dauphiness  by  insinuating 
the  same  mean  and  contemptible  observations,  and  so  far 
did  she  succeed,  that  when  madame  de  Valentinois  ap- 
proached to  express  her  hopes  that  the  entertainment 
which  she  had  honoured  with  her  presence  had  been  to 
her  royal  highness's  satisfaction,  the  dauphiness  coolly 
replied,  <{  Do  not,  madame,  affect  to  style  this  evening's 
fete  one  bestowed  in  honour  of  myself,  or  any  part  of 
my  family;  'tis  true  we  have  been  the  ostensible  causes, 
and  have,  by  our  presence,  given  it  all  the  effect  you 


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COMTESSE    DU   BARRY  289 

desired,  but  you  will  pardon  our  omitting  to  thank  you 
for  an  attention,  which  was  in  reality,  directed  to  the 
comtesse  du  Barry  and  M.  de  Maupeou." 

Madame  de  Valentinois  came  to  me  with  tears  in  her 
eyes  to  repeat  the  cruel  remark  of  the  princess;  the 
mare'chale  de  Mirepoix,  who  heard  her,  sought  to  con- 
sole her  by  assurances,  that  it  would  in  no  degree  affect 
her  interest  at  court.  <{  Never  mind,  my  good  friend,"  said 
she ;  (<  the  pretty  bird  merely  warbles  the  notes  it  learns 
from  its  keeper  la  Vauguyon,  and  will  as  quickly  forget 
as  learn  them.  Nevertheless,  the  king  owes  you  a  rec- 
ompense for  the  vexation  it  has  occasioned  you.* 

Immediately  that  I  found  myself  alone  with  the  mare'- 
chale, I  inquired  of  her  what  was  the  nature  of  the 
reparation  she  considered  madame  de  Valentinois  entitled 
to  expect  from  the  hands  of  his  majesty.  She  replied, 
(< 'Tis  on  your  account  alone  that  the  poor  countess 
has  received  her  late  mortification;  the  king  is  therefore 
bound  to  atone  for  it  in  the  form  of  a  pension.  Money, 
my  dear,  money  is  a  sovereign  cure  at  court;  calms 
every  grief  and  heals  every  wound.* 

I  fully  agreed  with  the  good-natured  mare'chale;  and, 
when  I  bade  the  sorrowful  madame  de  Valentinois  good 
night,  I  assured  her  I  would  implore  his  majesty  to  re- 
pair the  mischief  my  presence  had  caused.  Accordingly 
on  the  following  day,  when  the  king  questioned  me  as 
to  how  far  I  had  been  amused  with  the  fete  given  by 
madame  de  Valentinois,  I  availed  myself  of  the  opening 
to  state  my  entire  satisfaction,  as  well  as  to  relate  the 
disgrace  into  which  she  had  fallen,  and  to  pray  his 
majesty  to  bestow  upon  her  a  pension  of  15,000  livres. 

<(  Upon  my  word,*  exclaimed  Louis  XV.,  hastily  trav- 
ersing the  chamber,  "this  fete  seems  likely  to  prove  a 
costly  one  to  me.* 

<(  Nay,  sire,  *  said  I,  <(  it  was  a  most  delightful  evening ; 
and  you  will  not,  I  hope,  refuse  me  such  a  trifle  for 
those  who  lavished  so  much  for  my  amusement.® 

<(  Well,  *  cried  he,  <(  be    it    so ;    the   countess  shall  have 
the   sum  she  requires,  but  upon   condition  that  she  does 
not  apply  to  me  again.* 
19 


290  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

"Really  your  majesty  talks,"  replied  I,  "as  though 
this  trifling  pension  were  to  be  drawn  from  your  own 
purse.  * 

The  king  began  to  smile  at  my  remark,  like  a  man  who 
knows  himself  found  out.  I  knew  him  well  enough  to  be 
certain  that,  had  he  intended  the  pension  awarded  madame 
de  Valentinois  to  come  from  his  own  privy  purse,  he  would 
scarcely  have  consented  to  bestowing  on  her  more  than  a 
shabby  pittance  of  a  thousand  livres  per  annum.  It  is 
scarcely  possible  to  conceive  an  idea  of  the  excessive 
economy  of  this  prince.  I  remember,  that  upon  some 
great  occasion,  when  it  was  requisite  to  support  the  public 
treasury,  which  was  failing,  by  a  timely  contribution,  the 
due  de  Choiseul  offered  the  loan  of  250,000  livres,  whilst 
the  king,  to  the  astonishment  of  all  who  heard  him,  con- 
fined his  aid  to  2,000  louis!  The  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix 
used  to  assert  that  Louis  XV.  was  the  only  prince  of  his 
line  who  ever  knew  the  value  of  a  crown.  She  had,  never- 
theless, managed  to  receive  plenty  from  him,  although,  I 
must  own,  that  she  had  had  no  small  difficulty  in  obtaining 
them ;  nor  did  the  king  part  with  his  beloved  gold  without 
many  a  sigh  of  regret. 

At  the  house  of  madame  de  Valentinois  I  met  the 
mare'chale  de  Luxembourg,  who  had  recently  returned 
from  Chanteloup.  There  really  was  something  of  in- 
fatuation in  the  general  mania  which  seemed  to  prevail 
of  treating  the  king's  sentiments  with  indifference,  and 
considering  his  displeasure  as  an  affair  of  no  consequence. 
Before  the  disgrace  of  the  Choiseuls  they  were  equally  the 
objects  of  madame  de  Luxembourg's  most  bitter  hatred, 
nor  was  madame  de  Grammont  backward  in  returning  her 
animosity;  yet,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  no  sooner  was  the 
Choiseul  party  exiled,  than  the  mare'chale  never  rested  till 
she  saw  her  name  engraved  on  the  famous  pillar  erected  to 
perpetuate  the  remembrance  of  all  those  who  had  visited 
the  exiles.  She  employed  their  mutual  friends  to  effect 
a  reconciliation,  which  was  at  length  effected  by  letter, 
and  a  friendly  embrace  exchanged  by  proxy.  These  pre- 
liminaries over,  the  mare'chale  came  to  the  king  to  make 
the  request  to  which  he  had  now  become  accustomed,  but 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  i9i 

which  did  not  the  less  amuse  him.  Of  course  Louis  XV. 
made  no  hesitation  in  granting  her  the  request  she 
solicited.  Speaking  to  me  of  the  subject,  he  said,  «  The 
tender  meeting  of  madame  de  Grammont  and  the  mare*chale 
de  Luxembourg  must  indeed  be  an  overpowering  sight; 
I  only  trust  these  two  ladies  may  not  drop  the  mask 
too  soon,  and  bite  each  other's  ear  while  they  are  em- 
bracing. }> 

Madame  de  Luxembourg,  daughter  of  the  due  de 
Villeroi,  had  been  first  married  to  the  due  de  Boufflers, 
whose  brows  she  helped  to  adorn  with  other  ornaments 
than  the  ducal  coronet;  nor  whilst  her  youth  and  beauty 
lasted  was  she  less  generous  to  her  second  husband:  she 
was  generally  considered  a  most  fascinating  woman,  from 
the  loveliness  of  her  person  and  the  vivacity  of  her 
manners;  but  behind  an  ever  ready  wit,  lurked  the  most 
implacable  malice  and  hatred  against  all  who  crossed  her 
path  or  purpose.  As  she  advanced  in  life  she  became 
more  guarded  and  circumspect,  until  at  last  she  set  her- 
self up  as  the  arbitress  of  high  life,  and  the  youthful  part 
of  the  nobility  crowded  around  her,  to  hear  the  lessons  of 
her  past  experience.  By  the  number  and  by  the  power 
of  her  pupils,  she  could  command  both  the  court  and 
city;  her  censures  were  dreaded,  because  pronounced  in 
language  so  strong  and  severe,  as  to  fill  those  who  in- 
curred them  with  no  hope  of  ever  shining  in  public  opinion 
whilst  so  formidable  a  veto  was  uttered  against  them ;  and 
her  decrees,  from  which  there  was  no  appeal,  either 
stamped  a  man  with  dishonour,  or  introduced  him  as  a  first- 
rate  candidate  for  universal  admiration  and  esteem,  and 
her  hatred  was  as  much  dreaded  as  ever  her  smiles  had 
been  courted:  for  my  own  part,  I  always  felt  afraid  of 
her,  and  never  willingly  found  myself  in  her  presence. 

After  I*  had  obtained  for  madame  de  Valentinois  the 
boon  I  solicited,  I  was  conversing  with  the  king  re- 
specting madame  de  Luxembourg,  when  the  chancellor 
entered  the  room;  he  came  to  relate  to  his  majesty  an 
affair  which  had  occasioned  various  reports,  and  much 
scandal.  The  viscount  de  Bombelles,  an  officer  in  an 
hussar  regiment,  had  married  a  mademoiselle  Camp. 


292  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

Reasons,  unnecessary  for  me  to  seek  to  discover,  induced 
him,  all  at  once,  to  annul  his  marriage,  and  profiting 
by  a  regulation  which  forbade  all  good  Catholics  from 
intermarrying  with  those  of  the  reformed  religion,  he 
demanded  the  dissolution  of  his  union  with  mademoi- 
selle Camp.  This  attempt  on  his  part  to  violate,  upon 
such  grounds,  the  sanctity  of  the  nuptial  vow,  whilst  it 
was  calculated  to  rekindle  the  spirit  of  religious  perse- 
cution, was  productive  of  very  unfavourable  consequences 
to  the  character  of  M.  de  Bombelles;  the  great  cry  was 
against  him,  he  stood  alone  and  unsupported  in  the  con- 
test, for  even  the  greatest  bigots  themselves  would  not 
intermeddle  or  appear  to  applaud  a  matter  which  attacked 
both  honour  and  good  feeling:  the  comrades  of  M.  de 
Bombelles  refused  to  associate  with  him;  but  the  finish- 
ing stroke  came  from  his  old  companions  at  the  mili- 
tary school,  where  he  had  been  brought  up.  On  the 
ayth  of  November,  1771,  the  council  of  this  establish- 
ment wrote  him  the  following  letter:  — 

(<The  military  school  have  perused  with  equal  indignation  and 
grief  the  memorials  which  have  appeared  respecting  you  in  the  pub- 
lic prints.  Had  you  not  been  educated  in  this  establishment,  we 
should  merely  have  looked  upon  your  affair  with  mademoiselle  Camp 
as  a  scene  too  distressing  for  humanity  and  it  would  have  been 
buried  in  our  peaceful  walls  beneath  the  veil  of  modesty  and  silence ; 
but  we  owe  it  to  the  youth  sent  to  us  by  his  majesty,  for  the  incul- 
cation of  those  principles  which  become  the  soldier  as  the  man,  not 
to  pass  over  the  present  opportunity  of  inspiring  them  with  a  just 
horror  of  your  misguided  conduct,  as  well  as  feeling  it  an  imperative 
duty  to  ourselves  not  to  appear  indifferent  to  the  scandal  and  dis- 
graceful confusion  your  proceedings  have  occasioned  in  the  capital. 
We  leave  to  the  ministers  of  our  religion,  and  the  magistrates  who 
are  appointed  to  guard  our  laws,  to  decide  upon  the  legality  of  the 
bonds  between  yourself  and  mademoiselle  Camp,  but  by  one  tribunal 
you  are  distinctly  pronounced  guilty  towards  her,  and  that  is  the 
tribunal  of  honour,  before  that  tribunal  which  exists  in  the  heart  of 
every  good  man.  You  have  been  universally  cited  and  condemned. 
There  are  some  errors  which  all  the  impetuositj'  of  youth  is  unable 
to  excuse,  and  yours  are  unhappily  of  that  sort.  The  different  per- 
sons composing  this  establishment,  therefore,  concur  not  only  in 
praying  of  us  to  signify  their  sentiments,  but  likwise  to  apprize 
you,  that  you  are  unanimously  forbidden  to  appear  within  these 
walls  again.® 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  293 

The  chancellor  brought  to  the  king  a  copy  of  this 
severe  letter,  to  which  I  listened  with  much  emotion, 
nor  did  the  king  seem  more  calm  than  myself. 

"This  is,  indeed,"  said  he  at  length,  *a  very  sad  af- 
fair; we  shall  have  all  the  quarrels  of  Protestantism 
renewed,  as  if  I  had  not  had  already  enough  of  those 
of  the  Jansenists  and  Jesuits.  As  far  as  I  can  judge, 
M.  de  Bombelles  is  entitled  to  the  relief  he  seeks,  and 
every  marriage  contracted  with  a  Protestant  is  null  and 
void  by  the  laws  of  France.* 

(<Oh,  sire,"  cried  I,  "would  I  had  married  a  Protes- 
tant." 

The  king  smiled  for  a  moment  at  my  jest,  then  re- 
sumed: 

<(  I   blame   the   military  school. " 

"Is  it  your  majesty's  pleasure,"  inquired  the  chan- 
cellor, "  that  I  should  signify  your  displeasure  to  them  ? " 

<(  No,  sir, "  replied  Louis,  "  it  does  not  come  within 
your  line  of  duty,  and  devolves  rather  upon  the  minis- 
ter of  war;  and  very  possibly  he  would  object  to  exe- 
cuting such  a  commission;  for  how  could  I  step  forward 
as  the  protector  of  one  who  would  shake  off  the  moral 
obligation  of  an  oath  directly  it  suits  his  inclinations  to 
doubt  its  legality  ?  This  affair  gives  me  great  uneasiness, 
and  involves  the  most  serious  consequences.  You  will 
see  that  I  shall  be  overwhelmed  with  petitions  and  pam- 
phlets, demanding  of  me  the  revocation  of  the  edict  of 
Nantes.* 

ft  And  what,  sire, "  asked  the  chancellor  gravely,  "  could 
you  do,  that  would  better  consolidate  the  glory  of  your 
reign  ?  * 

"  Chancellor, "  exclaimed  Louis  XV. ,  stepping  back  with 
unfeigned  astonishment,  "have  you  lost  your  senses  ? 
What  would  the  clergy  say  or  do  ?  The  very  thought 
makes  me  shudder.  Do  you  then  believe,  M.  de  Mau- 
peou,  that  the  race  of  the  Clements,  the  Ravaillacs,  the 
Damieiis,  are  extinct  in  France?" 

(<Ah,  sire,  what  needless  fears." 

<(Not  so  needless  as  you  may  deem  them,"  answered 
the  king.  "  I  have  been  caught  once,  I  am  not  going 


294  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

to  expose  myself  to  danger  a  second  time.  You  know 
the  proverb, — no,  no,  let  us  leave  things  as  my  prede- 
cessors left  them;  besides,  I  shall  not  be  sorry  to  leave 
a  little  employment  for  my  successor;  he  may  get 
through  it  how  he  can,  and  spite  of  all  the  clamouring  of 
the  philosophers,  the  Protestants  shall  hold  their  present 
privileges  so  long  as  I  live.  I  will  have  neither  civil 
nor  religious  war,  but  live  in  peace  and  eat  my  supper 
with  a  good  appetite  with  you,  my  fair  comtesse,  for  my 
constant  guest,  and  you,  M.  de  Maupeou,  for  this  even- 
ing's visitor.* 

The  conversation  here  terminated. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

Madame  du  Barry  purchases  the  services  of  Marin  the  gazetteer  — 
Louis  XV.  and  madame  de  Rumas  —  M.  de  Rumas  and  the  com- 
tesse  du  Barry — An  intrigue  —  Denouement — A  present  upon  the 
occasion  —  The  due  de  Richelieu  in  disgrace — 100,000  livres. 

r-pnis  Marin,  a  provengal  by  birth,  in  his  childhood  one 
of  the  choristers,  and  afterwards  organist  of  the  vil- 
lage church,  was,  at  the  period  of  which  I  am  speak- 
ing, one  of  the  most  useful  men  possible.  Nominated  by  M. 
de  St.  Florentin  to  the  post  of  censor  royal,  this  friend 
to  the  philosophers  was  remarkable  for  the  peculiar  tal- 
ent, with  which  he  would  alternately  applaud  and  con- 
demn the  writings  af  these  gentlemen.  Affixing  his 
sanction  to  two  lines  in  a  tragedy  by  Dorat  had  cost 
him  twenty-four  hours'  meditation  within  the  walls  of 
the  Bastille;  and  for  permitting  the  representation  of 
some  opera  (the  name  of  which  I  forget)  he  had  been 
deprived  of  a  pension  of  2,000  francs;  but,  wedded  to 
the  delights  of  his  snug  post,  Marin  always  contrived, 
after  every  storm,  to  find  his  way  back  to  its  safe 
harbor.  He  had  registered  a  vow  never  to  resign  the 
office  of  censor,  but  to  keep  it  in  despite  of  danger 
and  difficulty.  I  soon  discovered  that  he  passed  from 
the  patronage  of  Lebel  to  that  of  Chamilly,  and  I  was 
not  slow  in  conjecturing  that  he  joined  to  his  avocations 
of  censor  and  gazetteer  that  of  purveyor  to  his  majes- 
ty's petits  amours. 

Spite  of  my  indefatigable  endeavors  to  render  Louis 
XV.  happy  and  satisfied  with  the  pleasures  of  his  own 
home,  he  would  take  occasional  wandering  fits,  and  go 
upon  the  ramble,  sometimes  in  pursuit  of  a  high-born 
dame,  at  others  eager  to  obtain  a  poor  and  simple  gri- 
sette ;  and  so  long  that  the  object  of  his  fancy  were  but 

(295) 


296  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE    VAUBERNIER 

new  to  him,  it  mattered  little  what  were  her  claims  to 
youth,  beauty,  or  rank  in  life.  The  mare"chale  de  Mire- 
poix  frequently  said  to  me,  <(  Do  you  know,  my  dear 
creature,  that  your  royal  admirer  is  but  a  very  fickle 
swain,  who  is  playing  the  gay  gallant  when  he  ought  to 
be  quietly  seated  at  his  own  fireside.  Have  a  care,  he 
is  growing  old,  and  his  intellect  becomes  more  feeble 
each  day;  and  what  he  would  never  have  granted  some 
few  years  back,  may  be  easily  wrung  from  him  now. 
Chamilly  aspires  at  governing  his  master,  and  Marin  sec- 
onds him  in  his  project. * 

At  length,  roused  to  a  sense  of  impending  evil,  by  the 
constant  reminding  of  the  mare'chale,  I  summoned  Marin 
to  my  presence.  <(  Now,  sir,®  said  I,  as  he  approached, 
<(  I  would  have  you  to  know  that  I  am  apprised  of  all 
your  tricks:  you  and  your  friend  Chamilly  are  engaged 
in  a  very  clever  scheme  to  improve  your  own  fortunes 
at  the  expense  of  the  king  your  master.* 

Marin  burst  into  loud  protestations  of  his  innocence, 
declaring  that  he  was  as  innocent  as  the  lamb  just  born. 
I  refused  to  believe  this,  and  desired  he  would  explain  to 
me  why  he  went  so  frequently  to  the  apartments  of  M. 
Chamilly. 

<(  Alas,  madam ! *  replied  Marin,  <(  I  go  thither  but  to 
solicit  his  aid  in  craving  the  bounty  of  his  majesty.* 

"You  are  for  ever  pleading  poverty,  miserly  being,* 
cried  I ;  *  you  are  far  richer  than  I  am ;  but  since  you  want 
money  I  will  supply  you  with  it,  and  in  return  you  shall 
be  my  secret  newsman,  and  royal  censor  in  my  service. 
Now  understand  me  clearly;  every  month  that  you  faith- 
fully bring  me  an  account  of  certain  goings  on,  I  will 
count  into  your  hand  five  and  twenty  louis  d'or.  * 

I  must  confess  that  Marin  only  accepted  my  propo- 
sition with  much  reluctance,  but  still  he  did  accept  it,  and 
withdrew,  meditating,  no  doubt,  how  he  should  be  en- 
abled to  satisfy  both  Chamilly  and  myself. 

A  long  time  elapsed  before  Marin  brought  me  any  news 
of  importance,  and  I  began  to  feel  considerable  doubts 
of  his  fidelity,  when  he  came  to  communicate  a  very  im- 
portant piece  of  intelligence.  He  had  just  learned  that 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  297 

Chamilly  frequently  went  to  Paris,  the  bearer  of  letters 
from  the  king  to  a  young  and  pretty  female,  named 
madame  de  Rumas,  who  resided  in  the  old  rue  du  Temple. 

Here  was  a  pretty  discovery ;  the  king  actually  engaged 
in  a  love  affair,  letters  passing  between  him  and  his  mis- 
tress, whilst  the  head  valet  de  chambre  was  acting  the 
part  of  Mercury  to  the  lovers.  This  indeed  required  some 
speedy  remedy,  and  I  lost  no  time  in  summoning  my 
privy  counsellor,  comte  Jean,  whom  I  acquainted  with 
what  had  occurred,  and  begged  his  advice  as  to  the  best 
measures  to  be  pursued.  (<  Indeed, w  replied  my  brother- 
in-law,  "what  others  would  do  in  our  place  would  be 
to  throw  M.  Chamilly  from  one  of  the  windows  of  the 
chateau,  and  treat  this  his  friend  Marin  with  a  lodging  in 
the  Bastille;  but,  as  we  are  persons  of  temper  and  mod- 
eration, we  will  go  more  gently  to  work.  I  will,  in 
the  first  place,  gain  every  information  relative  to  the 
affair,  that  I  may  satisfy  myself  Marin  is  not  seeking 
to  show  his  honest  claims  to  your  gold,  by  imposing 
a  forged  tale  upon  your  credulity;  when  that  is  ascer- 
tained we  will  decide  upon  our  next  best  step." 

Comte  Jean  departed  to  seek  the  assistance  of  M.  de 
Sartines,  who  was  at  that  time  entirely  devoted  to  my 
interests;  and,  after  having  diligently  searched  the  whole 
rue  du  Temple,  he  succeeded  in  discovering  madame  de 
Rumas.  He  learnt  that  this  lady  had  recently  married 
a  person  of  her  own  rank,  to  whom  she  professed  to  be 
violently  attached;  that  they  lived  together  with  great 
tranquillity,  and  had  the  reputation  of  conducting  them- 
selves as  persons  of  extreme  propriety  and  regularity; 
paid  their  debts,  and  avoided,  by  their  air  of  neatness, 
order,  and  modest  reserve,  the  scandal  of  even  their 
most  ill-natured  neighbors.  The  husband  was  said  to 
be  a  great  religionist,  which  increased  the  suspicions  of 
comte  Jean.  With  regard  to  the  epistolary  correspondence 
carried  on  by  the  lady,  no  information  could  be  gleaned 
in  that  quarter. 

Marin  was  again  sent  for  by  my  brother-in-law,  who 
questioned  and  cross-questioned  with  so  much  address, 
that  Marin  found  it  impossible  to  conceal  any  longer  the 


298  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

remaining  part  of  the  affair,  of  which  he  had  before 
communicated  but  so  much  as  his  policy  deemed  advis- 
able. He  confessed  that  he  had  originally  mentioned 
madame  de  Rtimas  (whom  he  himself  had  long  known) 
to  Chamilly,  had  shown  him  several  of  her  letters;  and, 
as  he  expected,  the  style  of  these  epistles  so  pleased  the 
head  valet,  that  he  expressed  a  wish  to  see  the  fair 
writer.  Marin  accordingly  introduced  him  to  the  rue  du 
Temple,  where  he  was  most  graciously  received,  and 
returned  home  enchanted  with  the  lady:  he  spoke  of  her 
to  the  king,  strongly  recommending  his  majesty  to  judge 
for  himself.  Accordingly  his  majesty  wrote  to  madame 
de  Rumas,  who  received  the  letter  from  the  hands  of 
her  friend  Chamilly  with  all  pomp  and  state,  talked  first 
of  her  own  virtue  and  honor,  and  afterwards  of  her  duti- 
ful respect  for  his  majesty.  She  replied  to  the  royal 
note  in  so  prudent  yet  obliging  a  manner,  that  the  king 
was  enchanted.  This  effective  billet  was  answered  by  a 
second  letter  from  the  king,  which  obtained  a  reply  even 
more  tenderly  charming  than  the  one  which  preceded  it. 
An  interview  was  next  solicited  and  granted;  for  a  visit 
was  such  a  trifle  to  refuse.  The  royal  guest  became 
pressing  and  the  lady  more  reserved,  till  the  time  was 
lost  in  attempts  at  convincing  each  other.  At  the  next 
interview  madame  de  Rumas  freely  confessed  her  sincere 
attachment  for  his  majesty,  but  added,  that  such  was  her 
desire  to  possess  his  whole  and  undivided  regard,  that 
she  could  never  give  herself  up  to  the  hope  of  keeping 
him  exclusively  hers  whilst  I  interposed  between  her  and 
the  king's  heart — in  a  few  words  then  she  demanded 
my  dismissal.  This  was  going  too  far;  and  Louis  XV., 
who  thought  it  no  scandal  to  have  a  hundred  mistresses, 
was  alarmed  at  the  thoughts  of  occasioning  the  bustle 
and  confusion  attendant  upon  disgracing  his  acknowledged 
favorite  and  recognised  mistress;  he  therefore  assured 
her,  her  request  was  beyond  his  power  to  grant. 

Madame  de  Rumas  now  sought  to  compromise  the 
affair,  by  talking  of  a  share  in  his  favor.  She  asked,  she 
said,  but  the  heart  of  her  beloved  monarch,  and  would 
freely  leave  me  in  possession  of  all  power  and  influence. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  299 

The  king  whose  heart  was  regularly  promised  once  a  day, 
did  not  hesitate  to  assure  her  of  his  fidelity,  and  his  wily 
enslaver  flattered  herself,  that  with  time  and  clever  man- 
agement, she  should  succeed  in  inducing  him  to  break 
off  those  ties  which  he  now  refused  to  break. 

Things  were  in  this  state  when  Marin  divulged  to  us 
the  intrigue  conducted  by  Chamilly,  and  directed,  though 
in  a  covert  manner,  by  the  mare'chal  due  de  Richelieu. 
This  spiteful  old  man  possessed  no  share  of  the  talent 
of  his  family ;  and,  not  contented  with  the  favor  bestowed 
on  his  nephew,  thought  only  of  his  personal  credit  and 
influence,  which  he  fancied  he  should  best  secure  by 
introducing  a  new  mistress  to  the  king.  This  well-con- 
cocted scheme  threw  both  comte  Jean  and  myself  into 
a  perfect  fury.  We  dismissed  Marin  with  a  present  of 
fifty  louis,  and  my  brother-in-law  besought  of  me  to 
grant  him  four  and  twenty  hours  undisturbed  reflection, 
whilst,  on  my  side,  I  assured  him  I  should  not  rest  until 
we  had  completely  discomfited  our  enemies. 

On  the  following  day  comte  Jean  laid  before  me  several 
projects,  which  were  far  from  pleasing  in  my  eyes;  too 
much  time  was  required  in  their  execution.  I  knew  the 
king  too  well  to  be  blind  to  the  danger  of  allowing  this 
mere  whim  of  the  moment  to  take  root  in  his  mind.  One 
idea  caught  my  fancy,  and  without  mentioning  it  to 
comte  Jean,  I  determined  upon  carrying  it  into  execution. 

The  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix  happened  at  this  moment 
not  to  be  at  Paris  at  her  hotel  in  the  rue  Bergere,  but 
at  her  country  house,  situated  au  Port  a  1'Anglaise.  I 
signified  to  the  king  my  intention  of  passing  a  couple 
of  days  with  the  mare'chale,  and  accordingly  set  out  for 
that  purpose.  Upon  my  arrival  at  Paris  I  merely  changed 
horses,  and  proceeded  onwards  with  all  possible  despatch 
to  rejoin  the  mare'chale,  who  was  quite  taken  by  surprise 
at  my  unexpected  arrival.  After  many  mutual  embraces 
and  exchange  of  civilities,  I  explained  to  her  the  whole 
affair  which  had  brought  me  from  Versailles.  The  good- 
natured  mare'chale  could  not  believe  her  ears.  She  soon, 
however,  comprehended  the  nature  of  my  alarms;  and 
so  far  from  seeking  to  dissipate  them,  urged  me  to  lose 


300  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

no  time  in  crushing  an  affair,  which  grew  more  threatening 
from  each  day's  delay.  I  was  fully  of  her  opinion,  and 
only  asked  her  assistance  and  co-operation  in  my  plan 
of  writing  to  M.  de  Riimas,  and  inviting  him  to  come 
on  the  following  day  to  the  house  of  madame  de  Mirepoix. 

That  lady  would  doubtless  have  preferred  my  asking 
her  to  assist  me  in  any  other  way,  but  still  she  could 
not  refuse  to  serve  me  in  the  manner  described:  for  I 
either  bestowed  on  her  all  she  desired,  or  caused  others 
to  gratify  her  slightest  request;  and  how  could  she  be 
sure,  that  were  my  reign  to  end,  she  might  derive  the 
same  advantages  from  any  new  favorite  ?  Self-interest 
therefore  bound  her  to  my  service,  and  accordingly  she 
wrote  to  M.  de  Rumas  a  very  pressing  letter,  requesting  to 
see  him  on  the  following  day  upon  matters  of  the  highest 
importance.  This  letter  sent  off,  I  dined  with  the  mare"- 
chale,  and  then  returned  to  sleep  at  Paris. 

On  the  following  day.  at  an  early  hour,  I  repaired  to 
the  Port  a  1'Anglaise;  M.  de  Rumas  arrived  there  a 
few  minutes  after  myself.  He  had  the  air  and  look  of 
an  honest  man,  but  perhaps  no  species  of  deceit  is 
more  easily  detected  than  that  quiet,  subdued  manner, 
compressed  lips,  and  uplifted  eye.  Now-a-days  such  a 
mode  of  dissembling  would  be  too  flimsy  to  impose 
even  on  children;  and  hypocrites  are  ever  greater  pro- 
ficients in  their  art  than  was  even  M.  de  Rumas. 

Madame  de  Mirepoix  left  us  alone  together,  in  order 
that  I  might  converse  more  freely  with  him.  I  knew 
not  how  to  begin,  but  made  many  attempts  to  convey, 
in  an  indirect  manner,  the  reasons  for  his  being  sum- 
moned to  that  day's  conference.  However,  hints  and 
insinuations  were  alike  thrown  away  upon  one  who  had 
determined  neither  to  use  eyes  nor  ears  but  as  interest 
pointed  out  the  reasonableness  of  so  doing;  and  ac- 
cordingly, unable  longer  to  repress  my  impatience,  I 
exclaimed  abruptly, 

*  Pray,  sir,  do  you  know  who  I  am  ? w 

"Yes,  madam, w  replied  he,  with  a  profound  bow,  and 
look  of  the  deepest  humility,  <(you  are  the  comtesse  du 
Barry. » 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  301 

"Well,  sir, "  added  I,  (<and  you  are  equally  well  aware, 
no  doubt,  of  the  relation  in  which  I  stand  to  the  king  ? " 

"  But,  madam  —  " 

(<  Nay,  sir,  answer  without  hesitation ;  I  wish  you  to 
be  candid,  otherwise  my  exceeding  frankness  may  dis- 
please you. " 

(<I  know,  madam,8  replied  the  hypocrite,  "that  his 
majesty  finds  great  pleasure  in  your  charming  society." 

"And  yet,  sir,*  answered  I,  "his  majesty  experiences 
equal  delight  in  the  company  of  your  wife.  How  answer 
you  that,  M.  de  Rumas  ? " 

"My  wife,  madam !" 

"Yes,  sir,  in  the  company  of  madame  de  Rumas;  he 
pays  her  many  private  visits,  secretly  corresponds  with 
her—  » 

"  The  confidence  of  his  majesty  must  ever  honor  his 
subjects." 

"But,"  replied  I,  quickly,   "may   dishonor  a  husband." 

"How,  madam!     What  is  it  you  would  insinuate?" 

"That  your  wife  would  fain  supplant  me,  and  that  she 
is  now  the  mistress  of  the  king,  although  compelled  to 
be  such  in  secret." 

"Impossible,"  exclaimed  M.  de  Rumas,  "and  some 
enemy  to  my  wife  has  thus  aspersed  her  to  you." 

"  And  do  you  treat  it  as  a  mere  calumny  ? "  said  I. 
"No,  sir,  nothing  can  be  more  true;  and  if  you  would 
wish  further  confirmation,  behold  the  letter  which  madame 
de  Rumas  wrote  to  the  king  only  the  day  before  yester- 
day; take  it  and  read  it." 

"  Heaven  preserve  me,  madam, "  exclaimed  the  time- 
serving wretch,  "from  presuming  to  cast  my  eyes  over 
what  is  meant  only  for  his  majesty's  gracious  perusal; 
it  would  be  an  act  of  treason  I  am  not  capable  of  com- 
mitting. " 

"Then,  sir,"  returned  I,  "I  may  reasonably  conclude, 
that  it  is  with  your  sanction  and  concurrence  your  wife 
intrigues  with  the  king  ?  " 

"Ah,  madam,"  answered  the  wily  de  Rumas,  in  a  soft 
and  expostulating  tone,  "trouble  not,  I  pray  you,  the 
repose  of  my  family.  I  know  too  well  the  virtue  of  madame 


302  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

de  Rumas,  her  delicacy,  and  the  severity  of  her  principles ; 
I  know  too  well  likewise  the  sentiments  in  which  her 
excellent  parents  educated  her,  and  I  defy  the  blackest 
malice  to  injure  her  in  my  estimation.* 

«  Wonderfully,  sir ! >J  cried  I ;  w  so  you  determine  to  be- 
lieve your  wife's  virtue  incorruptible,  all  the  while  you  are 
profiting  by  her  intrigues.  However,  I  am  too  certain  of 
what  I  assert  to  look  on  with  the  culpable  indifference  you 
are  pleased  to  assume,  whilst  your  virtuous  wife  is  seeking 
to  supplant  me  at  the  chateau ;  you  shall  hear  of  me  before 
long.  Adieu,  sir.8 

So  saying,  I  quitted  the  room  in  search  of  the  marechale, 
to  whom  I  related  what  had  passed. 

<(  And  now,  what  think  you  of  so  base  a  hypocrite  ?  * 
asked  I,  when  I  had  finished  my  account. 

<(  He  well  deserves  having  the  mask  torn  from  his  face," 
replied  she ;  (<  but  give  yourself  no  further  concern ;  return 
home,  and  depend  upon  it,  that,  one  way  or  other,  I  will 
force  him  into  the  path  of  honor.  * 

I  accordingly  ordered  my  carriage  and  returned  to 
Versailles,  where,  on  the  same  evening,  I  received  the  fol- 
lowing letter  from  the  mare'chale:  — 

(<Mv  DEAR  COUNTESS, — My  efforts  have  been  attended  with  no  bet- 
ter success  than  yours.  Well  may  the  proverb  say,  <  There  is  none  so 
deaf  as  he  who  will  not  hear,*  and  M.  de  Rumas  perseveres  in  treat- 
ing all  I  advanced  respecting  his  wife  as  calumnious  falsehoods.  Ac- 
cording to  his  version  of  the  tale,  madame  de  Rumas  has  no  other 
motive  in  seeing  Louis  XV.  so  frequently,  but  to  implore  his  aid  in 
favor  of  the  poor  in  her  neighborhood.  I  really  lost  all  patience  when 
I  heard  him  attempting  to  veil  his  infamous  conduct  under  the  mask 
of  charity ;  I  therefore  proceeded  at  once  to  menaces,  telling  him  that 
you  had  so  many  advantages  over  his  wife,  that  you  scorned  to  con- 
sider her  your  rival;  but  that,  nevertheless,  you  did  not  choose  that 
any  upstart  pretender  should  dare  ask  to  share  his  majesty's  heart. 
To  all  this  he  made  no  reply ;  and  as  the  sight  of  him  only  increased 
my  indignation,  I  at  length  desired  him  to  quit  me.  I  trust  you 
will  pardon  me  for  having  spoken  in  as  queenlike  a  manner  as  you 
could  have  done  yourself. 

tf  Adieu,  my  sweet  friend. » 

This  letter  was  far  from  satisfying  me,  and  I  de- 
termined upon  striking  a  decisive  blow.  I  sent  for 
Chamilly.  and  treating  him  with  all  the  contempt  he 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  303 

deserved,  I  told  him,  that  if  the  king  did  not  immedi- 
ately give  up  this  woman  he  might  prepare  for  his  own 
immediate  dismissal.  At  first  Chamilly  sought  to  ap- 
pease my  anger  by  eager  protestations  of  innocence, 
but  when  he  found  I  already  knew  the  whole  affair, 
and  was  firmly  fixed  in  my  determination,  he  became 
alarmed,  threw  himself  at  my  knees,  and  promised  to 
do  all  I  would  have  him.  We  then  agreed  to  tell 
Louis  XV.  some  tale  of  madame  de  Rumas  that  should 
effectually  deter  him  from  thinking  further  of  her. 

In  pursuance  with  this  resolution,  Chamilly  informed 
the  king,  that  he  had  just  been  informed  that  madame 
de  Rumas  had  a  lover,  who  boasted  of  being  able  to  turn 
his  majesty  which  way  he  pleased,  through  the  inter- 
vention of  his  mistress.  Louis  XV.  wrote  off  instantly 
to  M.  de  Sartines,  to  have  a  watchful  eye  over  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  Rumas  family.  The  lieutenant  of  police, 
who  had  some  regard  for  me,  and  a  still  greater  portion 
of  fear,  was  faithful  to  my  interests,  and  rendered  to 
Louis  XV.  the  most  horrible  particulars  of  the  profligate 
mode  of  life  pursued  by  madame  de  Rumas;  assuring 
him,  that  from  every  consideration  of  personal  safety, 
his  majesty  should  shun  the  acquaintance.  The  king, 
incensed  at  the  trick  put  upon  him  by  these  seemingly 
virtuous  people,  was  at  first  for  confining  both  husband 
and  wife  in  prison,  but  this  measure  I  opposed  with  all 
my  power;  for,  satisfied  with  the  victory  I  had  gained, 
I  cared  for  no  further  hurt  to  my  adversaries.  I  con- 
trived to  insinuate  to  the  worthy  pair  the  propriety  of 
their  avoiding  the  impending  storm  by  a  timely  retreat 
into  the  country,  a  hint  they  were  wise  enough  to  follow 
up,  so  that  I  was  entirely  freed  from  all  further  dread  of 
their  machinations. 

All  those  who  had  served  me  in  this  affair  I  liberally 
rewarded;  Marin  received  for  his  share  500  louis.  It  is 
true  he  lost  the  confidence  of  Chamilly,  but  he  gained 
mine  instead,  so  that  it  will  easily  be  believed  he  was  no 
sufferer  by  the  exchange.  I  caused  the  mare"chale  to 
receive  from  the  king  a  superb  Turkey  carpet,  to  which 
I  added  a  complete  service  of  Sevres  porcelain,  with  a 


304  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

beautiful  breakfast  set,  on  which  were  landscapes  most 
delicately  and  skilfully  drawn  in  blue  and  gold:  I  gave 
her  also  two  large  blue  porcelain  cots,  as  finely  executed 
as  those  you  have  so  frequently  admired  in  my  small 
saloon.  These  trifles  cost  me  no  less  a  sum  than  2800 
livres.  I  did  not  forget  my  good  friend  M.  de  Sartines, 
who  received  a  cane,  headed  with  gold,  around  which 
was  a  small  band  of  diamonds.  As  for  Chamilly,  I  granted 
him  his  pardon;  and  I  think  you  will  admit  that  was 
being  sufficiently  generous. 

After  having  thus  recompensed  the  zeal  of  my  friends, 
I  had  leisure  to  think  of  taking  vengeance  upon  the 
due  de  Richelieu  for  the  part  he  had  acted.  He  came  of 
his  own  accord  to  throw  himself  into  the  very  heat  of 
my  anger.  He  had  been  calling  on  the  mare'chale  de 
Mirepoix,  where  he  had  seen  with  envious  eyes  the  mag- 
nificent carpet  I  had  presented  her  with;  the  cupidity 
of  the  duke  induced  him,  after  continually  recurring  to  the 
subject,  to  say,  that  where  my  friends  were  concerned,  no 
one  could  accuse  me  of  want  of  liberality.  <{No,  sir,8 
answered  I,  *  I  consider  that  no  price  can  sufficiently 
repay  the  kind  and  faithful  services  of  a  true  friend,  nor 
can  baseness  and  treachery  be  too  generally  exposed  and 
punished.*  From  the  tone  in  which  I  spoke  the  old 
mare'chal  easily  perceived  to  what  I  was  alluding.  He 
was  wise  enough  to  be  silent,  whilst  I  followed  up  this  first 
burst  of  my  indignation,  by  adding, 

(<  For  instance,  monsieur  le  due,  how  can  I  sufficiently 
repay  your  friendly  zeal  to  supply  the  king  with  a  new 
mistress  ?  * 

«I,  madam?8 

"  Yes,  sir,  you ;  I  am  aware  or  all  your  kind  offices,  and 
only  lament  my  inability  to  reward  them  in  a  suitable 
manner.  * 

(<  In  that  case  I  shall  not  attempt  to  deny  my  share  in 
the  business.8 

(<  You  have  then  sufficient  honor  to  avow  your  enmity 
towards  me  ? w 

(<By  no  means  enmity,  madam.  I  merely  admit  my 
desire  to  contribute  to  the  amusement  of  the  king,  and 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  305 

surely,  when  I  see  all  around  anxious  to  promote  the 
gratification  of  their  sovereign,  I  need  not  be  withheld 
from  following  so  loyal  an  example.  The  due  de  Duras 
was  willing  to  present  his  own  relation  for  his  majesty's 
acceptance,  the  abbe"  Terray  offers  his  own  daughter, 
comte  Jean  his  sister-in-law,  whilst  I  simply  threw  a 
humble  and  modest  female  in  his  majesty's  path.  I  can- 
not see  in  what  my  fault  exceeds  that  of  the  gentlemen 
I  have  just  mentioned." 

<(  You  really  are  the  most  audacious  of  men,8  replied 
I,  laughing ;  (<  I  shall  be  obliged  to  solicit  a  lettre  de 
cachet  to  hold  you  a  prisoner  in  Guienne.  Upon  my 
word,  your  nephew  and  myself  have  a  valuable  and  trust- 
worthy friend  in  you." 

(<  Hark  ye,  madam, "  rejoined  the  mare*chal.  (<  I  know 
not,  in  the  first  place,  whether  his  majesty  would  very 
easily  grant  you  this  lettre  de  cachet,  which  most  cer- 
tainly I  do  not  deserve.  You  have  served  my  nephew 
and  neglected  me;  I  wished  to  try  the  strength  of  my 
poor  wings,  and  I  find,  like  many  others,  that  I  must 
not  hope  to  soar  to  any  height." 

While  we  were  thus  talking  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix 
was  announced.  I  was  still  much  agitated,  and  she  im- 
mediately turned  towards  the  duke,  as  if  to  inquire  of 
him  the  cause  of  my  distress:  upon  which,  M.  de  Riche- 
lieu related  all  that  had  passed  with  a  cool  exactitude  that 
enraged  me  still  further.  When  he  had  finished,  I  said, 

(<  Well,  madame  la  marechale,  and  what  is  your  opinion 
of  all  this?" 

(<Upon  my  word,  my  dear  countess,"  answered  madame 
de  Mirepoix,  <(you  have  ample  cause  for  complaint,  but 
still  this  poor  duke  is  not  so  culpable  as  you  imagine 
him  to  be.  He  has  large  expenses  to  provide  for:  and 
to  obtain  the  money  requisite  for  them  he  is  compelled 
to  look  to  his  majesty,  whose  favor  he  desires  to  win 
by  administering  to  his  pleasures. " 

(<  Alas ! "  replied  the  duke,  (<  can  you  believe  that  but 
for  the  pressure  of  unavoidable  circumstances  I  would 
have  separated  myself  from  my  nephew  and  my  fair 
friend  there  ?  * 


306  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

<(  Come,  come,  *  cried  the  mare'chale,  (<  I  must  restore 
peace  and  harmony  between  you.  As  for  you,  my  lord 
duke,  be  a  true  and  loyal  subject;  and  you,  my  sweet 
countess,  use  your  best  endeavors  to  prevail  on  the  king 
to  befriend  and  assist  his  faithful  servant.* 

I  allowed  myself  to  be  managed  like  a  child;  and 
instead  of  scratching  the  face  of  M.  de  Richelieu,  I 
obtained  for  him  a  grant  of  100,000  livres,  which  the 
court  banker  duly  counted  out  to  him. 


CHAPTER     XXXII. 

A  prefatory  remark  —  Madame  Brillant  —  The  marechale  de  Luxem- 
bourg's cat  —  Despair  of  the  marechale  —  The  ambassador,  Beau- 
marchais,  and  the  due  de  Chaulnes — The  comte  d'Aranda — Louis 
XV.  and  his  relics  —  The  abb6  de  Beauvais  —  His  sermons — He  is 
appointed  bishop. 

WHEN  I  related  to  comte  Jean  my  reconciliation  with 
the  due  de  Richelieu,  and  the  sum  which  this 
treaty  had  cost  me,  my  brother-in-law  flew  into  the 
most  violent  fury;  he  styled  the  mare'chal  a  plunderer 
of  the  public  treasury.  Well  may  the  scripture  tell  us 
we  see  the  mote  in  our  neighbor's  eye,  but  regard  not 
the  beam  which  is  in  our  own  eye.  I  was  compelled 
to  impose  silence  on  comte  Jean,  or  in  the  height  of  his 
rage  he  would  have  offered  some  insult  to  the  old  mare'- 
chal, who  already  most  heartily  disliked  him  for  the 
familiarity  of  his  tone  and  manner  towards  him.  I  did 
all  in  my  power  to  keep  these  two  enemies  from  coming 
in  each  other's  way,  counselled  to  that  by  the  mare'chal  e 
de  Mirepoix,  whose  line  of  politics  was  of  the  most  pa- 
cific nature;  besides  I  had  no  inclination  for  a  war  car- 
ried on  in  my  immediate  vicinity,  and,  for  my  own  part, 
so  far  from  wishing  to  harm  any  one,  I  quickly  forgave 
every  affront  offered  to  myself. 

But  hold!  I  perceive  I  am  running  on  quite  smoothly 
in  my  own  praise.  Indeed,  my  friend,  it  is  well  I  have 
taken  that  office  upon  myself,  for  I  fear  no  one  else 
would  undertake  it.  The  most  atrocious  calumnies  have 
been  invented  against  me;  I  have  been  vilified  both 
in  prose  and  verse ;  and,  amongst  the  great  number  of 
persons  on  whom  I  have  conferred  the  greatest  obligations, 
none  has  been  found  with  sufficient  courage  or  gratitude 


3o8  MEMOIRS    OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

to  stand  forward  and  undertake  my  defence.  I  do  not 
even  except  madame  de  Mirepoix,  whose  conduct  towards 
me  in  former  days  was  marked  by  the  most  studied 
attention.  She  came  to  me  one  evening,  with  a  face 
of  grief. 

"  Mercy  upon  me, w  cried  I,  *  what  ails  you  ?  * 
"  Alas !  w  replied   she,    in   a   piteous  tone,    "  I  have  just 
quitted   a  most   afflicted  family;   their  loss   is  heavy  and 
irreparable.     The  mare*chale  de  Luxembourg  is  well  nigh 
distracted  with  grief.* 

*  Good  heavens !  w   exclaimed  I,    (<  can   the   duchesse  de 
Lauzun  be  dead  ?  " 

«Alas!  no.» 

*  Perhaps  poor  madame  de  Boufflers  ?  w 
"  No,  my  friend.  * 

<(  Who  then  is  the  object  of  so  much  regret?  Speak; 
tell  me.® 

«  Madame  Brillant.  * 

<(  A  friend  of  the  old  mare"chale's  ? w 

<(  More  than  a  friend,  *  replied  madame  de  Mirepoix ; 
"her  faithful  companion;  her  only  companion;  her  only 
beloved  object,  since  her  lovers  and  admirers  ceased  to 
offer  their  homage  —  in  a  word,  her  cat. w 

<(  Bless  me ! w  cried  I,  "  how  you  frightened  me !  but 
what  sort  of  a  cat  could  this  have  been  to  cause  so 
many  tears  ? w 

<(  Is  it  possible  that  you  do  not  know  madame  Bril- 
lant, at  least  by  name  ?  w 

(<I  assure  you,®  said  I,  "this  is  the  very  first  time  I 
ever  heard  her  name.* 

"Well,  if  it  be  so,  I  will  be  careful  not  to  repeat 
such  a  thing  to  madame  de  Luxembourg;  she  would 
never  pardon  you  for  it.  Listen,  my  dear  countess, w 
continued  madame  de  Mirepoix;  "under  the  present 
circumstances  it  will  be  sufficient  for  you  to  write  your 
name  in  her  visiting-book.® 

I  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter. 

"It  is  no  joke,  I  promise  you,w  exclaimed  the  mare'- 
chale  ;  <(  the  death  of  madame  Brillant  is  a  positive 
calamity  to  madame  de  Luxembourg.  Letters  of  condo- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  309 

lence  will  arrive  from  Chanteloup;  madame  du  Deffant 
will  be  in  deep  affliction,  and  the  virtues  and  amiable 
qualities  of  the  deceased  cat  will  long  furnish  subjects 
of  conversation.* 

(<  It  was  then  a  singularly  engaging  animal,  I  presume  ? " 

<(  On  the  contrary,  one  of  the  most  stupid,  disagree- 
able, and  dirty  creatures  of  its  kind;  but  still  it  was 
the  cat  of  madame  de  Luxembourg.® 

And  after  this  funeral  oration  the  mare'chale  and  my- 
self burst  into  a  violent  fit  of  laughter. 

When  the  king  joined  us,  I  acquainted  him  with  this 
death,  and  my  conversation  with  the  mare'chale.  Louis 
XV.  listened  to  my  recital  with  an  air  of  gravity ;  when  I 
had  finished,  he  said, 

*  The  present  opportunity  is  admirably  adopted  for  satis- 
fying the  request  of  one  of  my  retinue,  one  of  the  best- 
hearted  creatures,  and  at  the  same  time  one  of  the  silliest 
men  in  the  kingdom. w 

<(  I  beg  your  pardon,  sire,*  cried  I,  *  but  what  is  his 
name  ?  For  the  description  is  so  general,  that  I  fear  lest 
I  should  be  at  a  loss  to  recollect  of  whom  you  are 
speaking. * 

<(You  are  very  ill-natured,*  cried  Louis  XV.,  (<and  I 
hardly  know  whether  you  deserve  to  be  gratified  by 
hearing  the  name  of  the  poor  gentleman :  however,  I  will 
tell  it  to  you;  he  is  called  Corbin  de  la  Chevrollerie.  A 
few  days  since  this  simple  young  man,  having  solicited  an 
audience,  informed  me,  that  he  was  desirous  of  marrying  a 
rich  heiress,  but  that  the  young  lady's  family  were  re- 
solved she  should  marry  no  one  who  was  not  previously 
employed  as  an  ambassador.  I  expressed  my  surprise  at 
so  strange  a  caprice,  but  the  poor  fellow  endeavored  to 
vindicate  his  bride's  relations,  by  stating  that  they  were 
willing  to  consider  him  as  my  ambassador  if  I  would  only 
commission  him  to  carry  some  message  of  compliment 
or  condolence.  Accordingly  I  promised  to  employ  him 
upon  the  occasion  of  the  first  death  or  marriage  which 
should  take  place  in  a  ducal  family.  Now,  I  think  I  cannot 
do  better  than  make  him  the  bearer  of  my  inquiries 
after  the  mare'chale  de  Luxembourg." 


310  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

This  idea  struck  me  as  highly  amusing,  and  I  imme- 
diately dispatched  a  servant  to  summon  M.  de  la  Che- 
vrollerie  to  the  presence  of  the  king.  This  being  done, 
that  gentleman  presented  himself  with  all  the  dignity 
and  importance  of  one  who  felt  that  a  mission  of  high 
moment  was  about  to  be  entrusted  to  him. 

His  majesty  charged  him  to  depart  immediately  to  the 
house  of  madame  de  Luxembourg,  and  to  convey  his 
royal  master's  sincere  condolences  for  the  heavy  loss 
she  had  sustained  in  madame  Brillant. 

M.  Corbin  de  la  Chevrollerie  departed  with  much  pride 
and  self-complacency  upon  his  embassy:  he  returned  in 
about  half  an  hour. 

"  Sire,  *  cried  he,  (<  I  have  fulfilled  your  royal  pleasure 
to  madame  de  Luxembourg.  She  desires  me  to  thank 
you  most  humbly  for  your  gracious  condescension:  she 
is  in  violent  distress  for  the  severe  loss  she  has  experi- 
enced, and  begged  my  excuse  for  quitting  me  suddenly, 
as  she  had  to  superintend  the  stuffing  of  the  deceased.* 

w  The  stuffing !  *  exclaimed  the  king ;  w  surely  you  mean 
the  embalming  ?  * 

"No,  sire,"  replied  the  ambassador,  gravely,  *  the  stuff- 
ing.» 

w  Monsieur  de  la  Chevrollerie,*  cried  I,  bursting  into  a 
violent  fit  of  laughter,  *do  you  know  in  what  degree  of 
relationship  the  deceased  madame  Brillant  stood  to  ma- 
dame de  Luxembourg  ?  * 

(<  No,  madam,  *  replied  the  ambassador,  gravely,  *  but  I 
believe  she  was  her  aunt,  for  I  heard  one  of  the  females 
in  waiting  say,  that  this  poor  madame  Brillant  was  very 
old,  and  that  she  had  lived  with  her  mistress  during  the 
last  fourteen  years.* 

Thus  finished  this  little  jest.  However,  Louis  XV., 
who  was  extremely  kind  to  all  about  him,  especially  those 
in  his  service,  shortly  after  recompensed  his  simple- 
minded  ambassador,  by  intrusting  him  with  a  commission 
at  once  profitable  and  honorable. 

Another  event  which  took  place  at  this  period,  caused 
no  less  noise  than  the  death  of  madame  Brillant.  At 
this  time,  mademoiselle  Mesnard  was,  for  her  many 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  311 

charms  of  mind  and  person,  the  general  rage  throughout 
Paris.  Courtiers,  lawyers,  bankers,  and  citizens  crowded 
alike  to  offer  their  homage.  Frail  as  fair,  mademoiselle 
Mesnard  received  all  kindly,  and  took  with  gracious 
smiles  the  rich  gifts  showered  upon  her  by  her  various 
adorers.  The  first  noblemen  of  the  court,  knights  of 
the  different  orders,  farmers  -  general,  all  aspired  to 
the  honor  of  ruining  themselves  for  her.  She  had  al- 
ready satisfied  the  ruinous  propensities  of  at  least  a  dozen 
of  lovers,  when  the  due  de  Chaulnes  entered  the  lists,  and 
was  fortunate  enough  to  eclipse  all  his  rivals.  He  might 
long  have  enjoyed  the  preference  thus  obtained,  but  for 
an  act  of  the  greatest  imprudence  of  which  a  lover  could 
be  guilty.  He  was  so  indiscreet  as  to  invite  several  of 
his  most  intimate  friends  to  sup  with  himself  and  Ma- 
demoiselle Mesnard.  Amongst  the  -number  was  Caron 
de  Beaumarchais,  a  man  possessed  of  the  grace  of  a 
prince  and  the  generous  profusion  of  a  highwayman. 
Caron  de  Beaumarchais  attracted  the  fancy  of  the  fickle 
mademoiselle  Mesnard,  a  mutual  understanding  was  soon 
established  between  them,  and  in  a  snug  little  cottage 
surrounded  by  beautiful  grounds  in  the  environs  of  Pere 
la  Chaise,  the  enamored  lovers  frequently  met  to  ex- 
change their  soft  vows. 

Happily  the  deity  who  presided  over  the  honor  of 
the  duke  was  carefully  watching  their  proceedings. 
This  guardian  angel  was  no  other  than  madame  Duver- 
ger,  his  former  mistress,  who,  unable  to  bear  the  deser- 
tion of  her  noble  admirer,  had  vowed,  in  the  first  burst 
of  rage  and  disappointment,  to  have  revenge  sooner  or 
later  upon  her  triumphant  rival.  With  this  view  she 
spied  out  all  the  proceedings  of  mademoiselle  Mesnard, 
whose  stolen  interviews  and  infidelity  she  was  not 
long  in  detecting;  she  even  contrived  to  win  over  a 
femme  de  chambre,  by  whose  connivance  she  was  en- 
abled to  obtain  possession  of  several  letters  containing 
irrefragable  proofs  of  guilt,  and  these  she  immediately 
forwarded  to  the  due  de  Chaulnes. 

This  proud  and  haughty  nobleman  might  have  par- 
doned his  mistress  had  she  quitted  him  for  a  peer  of 


312  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

the  realm  and  his  equal,  but  to  be  supplanted  by  a 
mere  man  of  business,  an  author,  too !  —  the  disgrace  was 
too  horrible  for  endurance.  The  enraged  lover  flew  to 
Beaumarchais,  and  reproached  him  bitterly  with  his 
treachery;  the  latter  sought  to  deny  the  charge,  but 
the  duke,  losing  all  self-possession,  threw  the  letters  in 
his  face,  calling  him  a  base  liar.  At  this  insult,  Beau- 
marchais, who,  whatever  his  enemies  may  say  of  him, 
was  certainly  not  deficient  in  courage,  demanded  instant 
satisfaction.  The  duke,  by  way  of  answer,  seized  the  man 
of  letters  by  the  collar,  Beaumarchais  called  his  ser- 
vants, who,  in  their  turn,  summoned  the  guard,  which 
speedily  arrived  accompanied  by  the  commissary,  and 
with  much  difficulty  they  succeeded  in  removing  M.  de 
Chaulnes  (who  appeared  to  have  entirely  lost  his  rea- 
son) from  the  room. 

The  conduct  of  the  duke  appeared  to  us  completely  out 
of  place,  and  he  would  certainly  have  answered  for  it 
within  the  walls  of  the  Bastille,  had  not  his  family  made 
great  intercession  for  him.  On  the  other  hand,  Beau- 
marchais, who  eagerly  availed  himself  of  every  opportunity 
of  writing  memorials,  composed  one  on  the  subject  of 
his  quarrel  with  M.  de  Chaulnes,  complaining  that  a  great 
nobleman  had  dared  to  force  himself  into  his  house,  and 
lay  forcible  hands  on  him,  as  though  he  were  a  thief  or  a 
felon.  The  whole  of  the  pamphlet  which  related  to  this 
affair  was  admirably  written,  and,  like  the  <(  Barber  of 
Seville,"  marked  by  a  strongly  sarcastic  vein.  However, 
the  thing  failed,  and  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere,  the  sworn 
enemy  of  men  of  wit  and  talent,  caused  Beaumarchais  to  be 
immediately  confined  within  Fort  1'Eveque.  So  that  the 
offended  party  was  made  to  suffer  the  penalty  of  the 
offence. 

In  the  same  year  the  comte  de  Fuentes,  ambassador 
from  Spain  to  the  court  of  Louis  XV.,  took  leave  of  us. 
He  was  replaced  by  the  comte  d'Aranda,  who  was  in  a 
manner  in  disgrace  with  his  royal  master:  this  nobleman 
arrived  preceded  by  a  highly  flattering  reputation.  In  the 
first  place,  he  had  just  completed  the  destruction  of  the 
Jesuits,  and  this  was  entitling  him  to  no  small  thanks  and 


COMTESSE    DU   BARRY  313 

praises  from  encyclopedists.     Every  one  knows  those  two 
lines  of  Voltaire's  — 

(<  Aranda  dans  FEspagne  instruisant  les  fidbles, 
A  F  inquisition  vient  de  rogner  les  ailcsP 

The  simplicity  of  comte  d' Aranda  indemnified  us  in 
some  degree  for  the  haughty  superciliousness  of  his  pred- 
ecessor. Although  no  longer  young,  he  still  preserved 
all  the  tone  and  vigor  of  his  mind,  and  only  the  habit 
which  appeared  to  have  been  born  with  him  of  reflecting, 
gave  him  a  slow  and  measured  tone  in  speaking.  His 
reserved  and  embarrassed  manners  were  but  ill-calculated 
to  show  the  man  as  he  really  was,  and  it  required  all  the 
advantages  of  intimacy  to  see  him  in  his  true  value.  You 
may  attach  so  much  more  credit  to  what  I  say  of  this  in- 
dividual, as  I  can  only  add,  that  he  was  by  no  means  one 
of  my  best  friends. 

When  Louis  XV.  heard  of  the  nomination  of  the  comte 
d'Aranda  to  the  embassy  from  Spain  to  France,  he  ob- 
served to  me, 

(<  The  king  of  Spain  gets  rid  of  his  Choiseul  by  sending 
him  to  me.* 

<(  Then  why  not  follow  so  excellent  an  example,  sire  ? * 
replied  I ;  (<  and  since  your  Choiseul  is  weary  of  Chante- 
loup,  why  not  command  him  upon  some  political  errand  to 
the  court  of  Madrid.* 

(<  Heaven  preserve  me  from  such  a  thing,*  exclaimed 
Louis  XV.  <(  Such  a  man  as  he  is  ought  never  t  o  quit 
the  kingdom,  and  I  have  been  guilty  of  considerable  over- 
sight to  leave  him  the  liberty  of  so  doing.  But  to  return 
to  comte  d'Aranda ;  he  has  some  merit  I  understand ;  still 
I  like  not  that  class  of  persons  around  me ;  they  are  in- 
exorable censors,  who  condemn  alike  every  action  of  my 
life.9 

However,  not  the  king's  greatest  enemy  could  have 
found  fault  with  his  manner  of  passing  his  leisure  hours. 
A  great  part  of  each  day  was  occupied  in  a  mysterious 
manufacture  of  cases  for  relics,  and  one  of  his  valets 
de  ckambre,  named  Turpigny,  was  intrusted  with  the 
commission  of  purchasing  old  shrines  and  reliquaries; 


314  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

he  caused  the  sacred  bones,  or  whatever  else  they  con- 
tain, to  be  taken  out  by  Grandelatz,  one  of  his  almoners, 
re-adjusted,  and  then  returned  to  new  cases.  These 
reliquaries  were  distributed  by  him  to  his  daughters,  or 
any  ladies  of  the  court  of  great  acknowledged  piety. 
When  I  heard  of  this  I  mentioned  it  to  the  king,  who 
wished  at  first  to  conceal  the  fact;  but,  as  he  was  no 
adept  at  falsehood  or  disguise,  he  was  compelled  to  ad- 
mit the  fact. 

(<  I  trust,  sire,  *  said  I,  <(  that  you  will  bestow  one  of 
your  prettiest  and  best-arranged  reliquaries  on  me.* 

*  No,  no,*  returned  he,  hastily,  "that  cannot  be.* 

*  And  why  not  ?  *  asked  I. 

*  Because,*  answered    he,    (<  it  would    be   sinful   of   me. 
Ask  anything  else  in  my  power  to  bestow,  and  it  shall 
be  yours.* 

This  was  no  hypocrisy  on  the  part  of  Louis  XV., 
_  who,  spite  of  his  somewhat  irregular  mode  of  life, 
professed  to  hold  religion  in  the  highest  honor  and  es- 
teem; to  all  that  it  proscribed  he  paid  the  submission 
of  a  child.  We  had  ample  proofs  of  this  in  the  ser- 
mons preached  at  Versailles  by  the  abbe"  de  Beauvais, 
afterwards  bishop  of  Senetz. 

This  ecclesiastic,  filled  with  an  inconsiderate  zeal,  feared 
not  openly  to  attack  the  king  in  his  public  discourses; 
he  even  went  so  far  as  to  interfere  with  many  things 
of  which  he  was  not  a  competent  judge,  and  which  by 
no  means  belonged  to  his  jurisdiction:  in  fact,  there 
were  ample  grounds  for  sending  the  abbe"  to  the  Bastille. 
The  court  openly  expressed  its  dissatisfaction  at  this  au- 
dacity, and  for  my  own  part  I  could  not  avoid  evincing 
the  lively  chagrin  it  caused  me.  Yet,  would  you  believe 
it,  Louis  XV.  declared,  in  a  tone  from  which  there  was 
no  appeal,  that  this  abbe*  had  merely  done  his  duty,  and 
that  those  who  had  been  less  scrupulous  in  the  perform- 
ance of  theirs,  would  do  well  to  be  silent  on  the  subject. 
This  was  not  all:  the  cardinal  de  la  Roche  Aymon,  his 
grand  almoner,  refused  to  sanction  the  nomination  of  M. 
de  Beauvais  to  the  bishopric,  under  the  pretext  of  his  not 
being  nobly  descended. 


COMTESSE    DU   BARRY  315 

M.  de  Beyons,  bishop  of  Carcassone,  a  prelate  of  irre- 
proachable character,  was  deeply  distressed  to  find  that 
the  want  of  birth  would  exclude  M.  de  Beauvais  from  the 
dignities  of  his  holy  profession.  He  went  to  discuss 
the  matter  with  the  grand  almoner,  who  again  advanced 
his  favorite  plea  for  excluding  M.  de  Beauvais.  (<  My 
lord,*  replied  M.  de  Beyons,  <(if  I  believed  that  nobility 
of  descent  were  the  chief  requisite  for  our  advancement 
in  our  blessed  calling,  I  would  trample  my  crosier  under 
foot,  and  renounce  for  ever  all  church  dignities.1* 

M.  de  Beyons  sought  the  king,  and  loudly  complained 
to  him  of  the  infatuation  and  obstinacy  of  M.  de  la 
Roche  Aymon.  Louis  XV.  however  commanded  that 
M.  de  Beauvais  should  be  appointed  to  the  first  vacant 
see,  and  when  the  grand  almoner  repeated  his  objections 
to  the  preferment,  the  king  answered,  (<  Monsieur  le  car- 
dinal, in  the  days  of  our  blessed  Saviour  the  apostles  had 
no  need  to  present  their  genealogical  tree,  duly  witnessed 
and  attested.  It  is  my  pleasure  to  make  M.  de  Beau- 
vais a  bishop;  let  that  end  the  discussion  of  the  matter.* 

The  command  was  too  peremptory  to  admit  of  any 
course  but  instant  and  entire  submission. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

M.  D n   and    madame    de    Blessac  —  Anecdote  —  The   rendezvous 

and  the  ball  —  The  wife  of  Gaubert  —  They  wish  to  give  her  to 
the  king — Intrigues  —  Their  results  —  Letter  from  the  due  de 
la  Vrilliere  to  the  countess  —  Reply  —  Reconciliation. 

AMONGST  the  pages  of  the  chapel  was  one  whom  the  king 
distinguished  so  greatly,  that  he  raised  him  to  the 
rank  of  a  gentleman  of  the  bedchamber,  and  confided 
to  his  charge  the  cabinet  of  medals,  for  which  he  had  im- 
bibed a  taste  since  his  liaison  with  madame  de  Pompadour. 

•  This  esteemed  page  was  named  M.  D n,  who  united  to 

the  most  amiable  wit  a  varied  and  deep  knowledge  of  men 
and  things.  He  had  had  adventures  at  an  age  when  they 
are  usually  just  understood,  and  talked  of  them  with  the 
utmost  indiscretion.  But  this  so  far  from  doing  him 
any  injury  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  only  served  to  make 
him  the  more  admired;  for  women  in  general  have  an  in- 
clination for  those  who  do  not  respect  their  reputation. 

At  the  period  I  allude  to  a  madame  de  Blessac,  a  very 
well-looking  woman,  took  iipon  herself  to  be  very  kindly 
disposed  towards  the  gentleman-in-waiting.  She  told 

him   so,    and    thereupon    M.   de   D n   ranged  himself 

under  her  banner,  and  swore  eternal  constancy.  How- 
ever, the  lady,  by  some  accident,  became  greatly  smitten 
with  the  prince  de  la  Trimouille,  and  without  quitting 
the  little  keeper  of  medals,  gave  him  a  lord  for  a  sub- 
stitute. M.  D n  soon  learnt  this  fact,  that  he  was 

not  the  sole  possessor  of  a  heart  which  formed  all  his 
joy  and  glory.  He  found  he  was  deceived,  and  he  swore 
to  be  revenged. 

Now  the  prince  de  la  Trimouille  had  for  his  mistress 
mademoiselle  Lubert,  an  opera-dancer,  very  pretty  and 
extraordinarily  silly.  M.  D n  went  to  her;  «  Ma- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  317 

demoiselle, w  said  he,  (<  I  come  to  offer  my  services  to  you 
in  the  same  way  that  M.  de  la  Trimouille  has  offered  his 
to  madame  de  Blessac,  with  whom  I  was  on  exceedingly 
intimate  terms. '* 

The  services  of  young  D n  were  accepted,  and  he 

was  happy.  He  then  wrote  to  his  former  mistress,  saying, 
that  anxious  to  give  her  a  proof  of  his  sincere  attachment 
he  had  visited  mademoiselle  Lubert,  that  he  might  leave 
her  at  leisure  to  receive  the  visits  of  the  prince  de  la 
Trimouille. 

Madame  de  Blessac,  stung  to  the  quick,  quarrelled 
with  the  prince,  who  was  excessively  enraged  with  his 
rival;  and  there  certainly  would  have  been  an  affair 
between  these  two  gentlemen,  had  not  the  king  preserved 
the  peace  by  sending  his  gentleman  to  St.  Petersburg 

as  attach^  to  the  embassy.  M.  D n  went  to  Russia, 

therefore,  and  on  his  return  came  to  see  me,  and  is  now 
one  of  the  most  welcome  and  agreeable  of  the  men  of 
my  private  circle. 

As  to  madame  de  Blessac,  she  continued  to  carry 
on  the  war  in  grand  style.  Her  husband  dying  she 
married  again  a  foolish  count,  three  parts  ruined,  and 
who  speedily  dissipated  the  other  quarter  of  his  own 
fortune  and  the  whole  of  his  wife's.  Madame  Ramoski 
then  attacked  the  rich  men  of  the  day  one  after  another. 
One  alone  stood  out  against  her;  it  was  M.  de  la  Garde, 
who  had  been  one  of  my  admirers.  Madame  Ramoski 
wrote  to  him;  he  did  not  answer.  At  length  she  de- 
termined on  visiting  him,  and  wrote  him  a  note,  to  say 
that  she  should  call  upon  him  about  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening.  What  did  M.  de  la  Garde  ?  Why  he  gave  a 
ball  on  that  very  evening;  and,  when  madame  Ramoski 
reached  his  hotel,  she  found  it  illuminated.  As  she  had 
come  quite  unprepared  she  was  compelled  to  return  as 
she  came,  very  discontentedly. 

But  to  leave  madame  de  Blessac  and  M.  D n,  and 

to  talk  of  my  own  matters.  We  had  at  this  period  a 
very  great  alarm  at  the  chateau,  caused  by  the  crime  of 
a  man,  who  preferred  rather  to  assassinate  his  wife  than 
to  allow  her  to  dishonor  him,  It  is  worthy  of  narration. 


3i8  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

A  pretty  shopkeeper  of  Paris,  named  Gaubert,  who 
lived  in  the  rue  de  la  Montagne  Sainte-Genevieve,  had 
recently  married  a  woman  much  younger  than  himself. 
From  the  Petit  Pont  to  the  rue  Mouffetard,  madame 
Gaubert  was  talked  of  for  her  lovely  face  and  beautiful 
figure;  she  was  the  Venus  of  the  quarter.  Everybody 
paid  court  to  her,  but  she  listened  to  none  of  her  own 
rank,  for  her  vanity  suggested  that  she  deserved  suitors 
of  a  loftier  rank. 

Her  husband  was  very  jealous.  Unfortunately  M.  Gau- 
bert had  for  cousin  one  of  the  valets  of  the  king:  this 
man,  who  knew  the  taste  of  his  master,  thought  how  he 
could  best  turn  his  pretty  cousin  to  account.  He  spoke 
to  her  of  the  generosity  of  Louis  XV.,  of  the  grandeur 
of  Versailles,  and  of  the  part  which  her  beauty  entitled 
her  to  play  there.  In  fact,  he  so  managed  to  turn  the 
head  of  this  young  woman,  that  she  begged  him  to  ob- 
tain for  her  a  place  in  the  king's  favor.  Consequently 
Girard  (that  was  his  name)  went  to  madame  de  Lau- 
geac,  and  told  her  the  affair  as  it  was.  She  pleased  with 
an  opportunity  of  injuring  me,  went  to  Paris,  and  betook 
herself  incog,  to  the  shop  of  madame  Gaubert.  She 
found  her  charming,  and  spoke  of  her  to  the  due  de  la 
Vrilliere,  and  both  agreed  to  show  her  portrait  to  his 
majesty.  But  how  to  procure  this  portrait  ?  Her  husband 
was  her  very  shadow,  and  never  left  her.  Le  petit  saint, 
who  was  never  at  a  loss,  issued  a  lettre  de  cachet  against 
him,  and  the  unfortunate  man  was  shut  up  in  Fort 
1'Eveque.  It  was  not  until  the  portrait  was  finished  that 
he  was  set  at  liberty. 

He  returned  to  his  home  without  guessing  at  the  mo- 
tives  of  his  detention,  but  he  learned  that  his  wife  had  had 
her  portrait  painted  during  his  absence,  and  his  jealousy 
was  set  to  work.  Soon  a  letter  from  Girard,  a  fatal 
letter,  which  fell  into  his  hands,  convinced  him  of  the 
injury  done  him.  He  took  his  wife  apart,  and,  feigning 
a  resignation  which  he  did  not  feel,  <(  My  love, w  he 
said,  <(I  loved  thee,  I  love  thee  still:  I  thought,  too, 
that  thou  wert  content  with  our  competence,  and  wouldst 
not  have  quitted  thine  husband  for  any  other  in  the 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  319 

world:  I  have  been  convinced  otherwise.  A  letter  from 
Girard  informs  me,  that  with  thine  own  consent  the 
king,  whom  thy  portrait  has  pleased,  desires  to  see  thee 
this  very  day.  It  is  a  misfortune,  but  we  must  submit. 
Only  before  thou  art  established  at  Versailles,  I  should 
wish  thee  to  dine  with  me  once  more.  You  can  invite 
cousin  Girard,  too,  for  I  owe  him  something  for  what 
he  has  done  for  thee." 

The  young  wife  promised  to  return  and  see  her  hus- 
band. That  evening  at  the  performance  at  the  court 
she  was  seated  in  the  same  box  with  the  marquise  de 
Laugeac;  the  king's  glass  was  directed  towards  her  the 
whole  time,  and  at  the  termination  of  the  spectacle  it 
was  announced  to  her,  that  she  was  to  sleep  at  the 
chateau  the  next  evening.  The  project  was  never  realized. 

The  next  day,  according  to  promise, .  the  young  wife 
went  to  Paris  with  the  valet.  She  informed  her  hus- 
band of  the  success  which  had  befallen  her,  and  he  ap- 
peared delighted.  Dinner  being  ready,  they  seated 
themselves  at  table,  ate  and  drank.  Girard  began  to 
laugh  at  his  cousin  for  his  complaisance,  when  suddenly 
all  desire  to  jest  left  him.  He  experienced  most  horrible 
pains,  and  his  cousin  suffered  as  well  as  himself. 
« Wretches ! "  said  Gaubert  to  them,  <(  did  you  think  I 
would  brook  dishonor  ?  No,  no !  I  have  deceived  you 
both  the  better  to  wreak  my  vengeance.  I  am  now 
happy.  Neither  king  nor  valet  shall  ever  possess  my 
wife.  I  have  poisoned  you,  and  you  must  die."  The  two 
victims  implored  his  pity.  aYes,)>  said  he  to  his  wife, 
<(thy  sufferings  pain  me,  and  I  will  free  you  from  them." 
He  then  plunged  a  knife  to  her  heart;  and,  turning  to 
Girard,  said,  <(  As  for  thee,  I  hate  thee  too  much  to  kill 
thee;  die."  And  he  left  him. 

The  next  day  M.  de  Sartines  came  and  told  me  the 
whole  story.  He  had  learnt  them  from  the  valet,  who 
had  survived  his  poisoning  for  some  hours.  Gaubert 
could  not  be  found,  and  it  was  feared  that  he  would  at- 
tempt some  desperate  deed.  No  one  dared  mention  it 
to  the  king,  but  the  captain  of  the  guards  and  the  first 
gentleman  in  waiting  took  every  possible  precaution;  and 


320  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

when  Louis  XV.  asked  for  the  young  female  who  was  to 
be  brought  to  him,  they  told  him  that  she  had  died  of  a 
violent  distemper.  It  was  not  until  some  days  afterwards 
that  the  terror  which  pervaded  the  chateau  ceased.  They 
had  found  the  body  of  the  unfortunate  Gaubert  on  the 
banks  of  the  Seine. 

In  spite  of  what  had  passed,  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere 
had  the  impudence  to  present  himself  to  me.  I  treated 
him  with  disdain,  reproaching  him  and  Laugeac  for  their 
conduct.  He  left  me  in  despair,  and  wrote  me  the  fol- 
lowing letter:  — 

(<  MADAME  LA  COMTESSE, — Your  anger  kills  me.  I  am  guilty,  but 
not  so  much  so  as  you  may  imagine.  The  duty  of  my  office  compels 
me  to  do  many  things  which  are  disagreeable  to  me.  In  the  affair  for 
which  you  have  so  slightingly  treated  me  there  was  no  intent  to  in- 
jure you,  but  only  to  procure  for  the  king  an  amusement  which 
should  make  him  the  more  estimate  your  charms  and  your  society. 
Forgive  a  fault  in  which  my  heart  bore  no  share;  I  am  sufficiently 
miserable,  and  shall  not  know  repose  until  I  be  reinstated  in  your 
good  graces. 

(<As  for  the  poor  marchioness  she  is  no  more  to  blame  than  my- 
self. She  feels  for  you  as  much  esteem  as  attachment,  and  is  anxious 
to  prove  it  at  any  opportunity.  I  beseech  you  not  to  treat  her 
rigorously.  Think  that  we  only  work  together  for  the  good  of  the  king, 
and  that  it  would  be  unjust  of  you  to  hate  us  because  we  have  en- 
deavored to  please  this  excellent  prince.  I  hope  that,  contented  with 
this  justification,  you  will  not  refuse  to  grant  me  the  double  amnesty 
which  I  ask  of  your  goodness,* 

I  replied  thus :  — 

<(Your  letter,  monsieur  le  due,  seduces  me  no  more  than  your 
words.  I  know  you  well,  and  appreciate  you  fully.  I  was  ignorant 
up  to  this  time,  that  amongst  the  duties  of  your  office,  certain  such 
functions  were  imposed  upon  you.  It  appears  that  you  attend  to 
them  as  well  as  to  others,  and  I  sincerely  compliment  you  there- 
upon; I  beg  of  you  to  announce  it  in  the  <  Court  Kalendar.*  It  will 
add,  I  am  convinced,  to  the  universal  esteem  in  which  you  are 
held. 

(<As  to  madame  de  Laugeac,  she  is  even  more  insignificant  than 
you,  and  that  is  not  saying  much.  I  thank  her  for  her  esteem 
and  attachment,  but  can  dispense  with  any  marks  of  them;  no  good 
can  come  from  such  an  one  as  she.  Thus,  M.  le  due,  keep  quiet  both 


COMTESSE   DU  BARRY  321 

of  you,  and  do  not  again  attempt  measures   which   may  compromise 
me.     Do  your  business  and  leave  me  to  mine. 
<(I  am,  with  all  due  consideration, 

«Your  servant, 

«  COMTESSE  DU  BARRY. » 


I  mentioned  this  to  the  king,  who  insisted  on  reconcil- 
ing me  with  le  petit  saint,  who  came  and  knelt  to  me. 
I  granted  the  pardon  sought  out  of  regard  for  Louis 
XV. ;  but  from  that  moment  the  contempt  I  felt  for  the 
duke  increased  an  hundredfold. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

Conversation  with  the  king  —  Marriage  of  the  comte  d'Artois  —  In- 
trigues—  The  place  of  lady  of  honor  —  The  marechale  de  Mirepoix 
— The  comtesse  de  Forcalquier  and  madame  du  Barry  —  The 
comtesse  de  Forcalquier  and  madame  de  Boncault. 

THE  king  was  much  annoyed  at  the  indifference  I 
evinced  for  all  state  secrets,  and  frequently  ob- 
served to  me,  <(You  are  not  at  all  like  madame  de 
Pompadour:  she  was  never  satisfied  unless  she  knew  all 
that  was  going  on,  and  was  permitted  to  take  an  active 
part  in  every  transaction;  she  would  frequently  scold  me 
for  not  telling  her  things  of  which  I  was  myself  igno- 
rant. She  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  most  secret  in- 
trigues, and  watched  every  turn  of  my  countenance,  as 
though  she  sought  to  read  in  my  eyes  the  inmost  thoughts 
of  my  mind.  Never,*  continued  the  king,  <(did  woman 
more  earnestly  desire  supreme  command ;  and  so  completely 
had  she  learned  to  play  my  part,  that  I  have  frequently 
surprised  her  giving  private  instructions  to  my  ambas- 
sadors, differing  altogether  from  what  I  myself  had  dic- 
tated to  them.  Upon  the  same  principle  she  maintained 
at  various  courts  envoys  and  ministers,  who  acted  by  her 
orders,  and  in  her  name;  she  even  succeeded  in  obtaining 
the  friendship  of  the  grave  and  austere  Marie  The'rese, 
who  ultimately  carried  her  condescension  so  far,  as  only 
to  address  the  marchioness  by  the  title  of  *  cousin J  and 
'dear  friend.*  I  must  confess,  however,  that  these  pro- 
ceedings on  the  part  of  madame  de  Pompadour  were  by 
no  means  agreeable  to  me,  and  I  even  prefer  your  igno- 
rance of  politics  to  her  incessant  interference  with  them. w 
This  was  said  by  Louis  XV.  upon  the  occasion  of  the 
approaching  marriage  of  the  comte  d'Artois,  the  object  of 
universal  cabal  and  court  intrigue  to  all  but  myself,  who 
(322) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  323 

preserved  perfect  tranquillity  amidst  the  general   excite- 
ment that  prevailed. 

Various  reasons  made  the  marriage  of  this  prince  a 
matter  of  imperative  necessity.  In  the  first  place,  the 
open  gallantry  of  the  young  count  had  attracted  a  crowd 
of  disreputable  personages  of  both  sexes  to  Versailles, 
and  many  scandalous  adventures  occurred  within  the 
chateau  itself;  secondly,  a  motive  still  more  important  in 
the  eyes  of  Louis  XV.,  originated  in  the  circumstance  of 
neither  the  marriage  of  the  dauphin  nor  that  of  the  comte 
de  Provence  having  been  blest  with  any  offspring.  The 
king  began  to  despair  of  seeing  any  descendants  in  a 
direct  line,  unless  indeed  heaven  should  smile  upon  the 
wedded  life  of  the  comte  d'Artois.  Louis  XV.  disliked 
the  princes  of  the  blood,  and  the  bare  idea  that  the  due 
d' Orleans  might  one  day  wield  his  sceptre  would  have 
been  worse  than  death. 

Many  alliances  were  proposed  for  the  prince.  Marie 
Josephe,  infanta  of  Spain,  was  then  in  her  twentieth 
year,  and  consequently  too  old.  The  princess  Marie- 
Frangoise  -  Benedictine  -Anne  -  Elizabeth-J  osephe-Antonine- 
Laurence-Ignace-The'rese-Gertrude-Marguerite-Rose,  etc. , 
etc.,  of  Portugal,  although  younger  than  the  first-men- 
tioned lady,  was  yet  considered  as  past  the  age  that 
would  have  rendered  her  a  suitable  match  for  so  youthful 
a  bridegroom.  The  daughter  of  any  of  the  electoral 
houses  of  Germany  was  not  considered  an  eligible  match, 
and  the  pride  of  the  house  of  Bourbon  could  not  stoop 
to  so  ignoble  an  alliance.  There  was  no  alternative  left 
therefore,  but  to  return  to  the  house  of  Savoy,  and  take 
a  sister  of  the  comtesse  de  Provence.  This  proposal 
was  well  received  by  the  royal  family,  with  the  exception 
of  the  dauphiness,  who  dreaded  the  united  power  and 
influence  of  the  two  sisters,  if  circumstances  should  ever 
direct  it  against  herself  or  her  wishes ;  and  I  heard  from 
good  authority,  that  both  the  imperial  Marie  Th6rese  and 
her  daughter  made  many  remonstrances  to  the  king  upon 
the  subject.  "The  empress,"  said  Louis  XV.,  one  day, 
<(  believes  that  things  are  still  managed  here  as  in  the 
days  of  the  marquise  de  Pompadour  and  the  due  de 


324  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

Choiseul.  Thank  heaven,  I  am  no  longer  under  the 
dominion  of  my  friend  and  her  pensionaries.  I  shall 
follow  my  own  inclinations,  and  consult,  in  the  marriage 
of  my  grandson,  the  interests  of  France  rather  than  those 
of  Austria.* 

The  little  attention  paid  by  Louis  XV.  to  the  repre- 
sentations of  Marie  The"rese  furnished  my  enemies  with 
a  fresh  pretext  for  venting  their  spleen.  They  accused 
me  of  having  been  bribed  by  the  court  of  Turin,  which 
ardently  desired  a  second  alliance  with  France.  I  was 
most  unjustly  accused,  for  I  can  with  truth  affirm,  that 
the  comte  de  la  Marmora,  ambassador  from  Piedmont  to 
Paris,  neither  by  word  nor  deed  made  any  attempt  to  in- 
terest me  in  his  success.  The  king  was  the  first  person 
who  informed  me  of  the  contemplated  marriage,  and  my 
only  fault  (if  it  could  be  called  one)  was  having  ap- 
proved of  the  match. 

More  than  one  intrigue  was  set  on  foot  within  the 
chateau  to  separate  the  princes.  Many  were  the  attempts 
to  sow  the  seeds  of  dissension  between  the  dauphin  and 
the  comte  d'Artois,  as  well  as  to  embroil  the  dauphin 
with  monsieur.  The  first  attempt  proved  abortive,  but 
the  faction  against  monsieur  succeeded  so  far  as  to  ex- 
cite a  lasting  jealousy  and  mistrust  in  the  mind  of  Marie 
Antoinette.  This  princess  was  far  from  contemplating 
the  marriage  of  the  comte  d'Artois  with  any  feelings  of 
pleasure,  and  when  her  new  sister-in-law  became  a  mother, 
she  bewailed  her  own  misfortune  in  being  without  chil- 
dren with  all  the  feelings  of  a  young  and  affectionate 
heart.  Heaven  did  not,  however,  always  deny  her  the 
boon  she  so  ardently  desired. 

You  will  readily  believe  that  the  same  anxiety  pre- 
vailed upon  the  occasion  of  this  approaching  marriage 
as  had  existed  at  the  unions  of  the  dauphin  and  the 
comte  de  Provence,  to  obtain  the  various  posts  and  places 
the  ambition  of  different  persons  led  them  to  desire  in 
the  establishment  of  the  newly  married  pair.  Wishing 
on  my  own  part  to  offer  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix  a 
proof  of  my  high  estimation  of  her  friendship  towards 
me.  I  inquired  of  her  whether  a  superior  employment 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  325 

about    the    person    of    the    comtesse    d'Artois    would    be 
agreeable   to  her  ? 

"Alas!  my  dear  creature,1*  replied  the  good-natured 
mare'chale,  (<  I  am  too  old  now  to  bear  the  toil  and  con- 
finement of  any  service.  The  post  of  lady  of  honor  would 
suit  me  excellently  well  as  far  as  regards  the  income 
atiached  to  it,  but  by  no  means  agree  with  my  inclina- 
tions as  far  as  discharging  its  functions  goes.  You  see 
I  am  perfectly  candid  with  you.  Listen  to  me;  if  you 
really  wish  to  oblige  me,  you  can  do  this — give  the  title 
to  another,  and  bestow  the  pecuniary  part  of  the  engage- 
ment on  me.  In  that  manner  you  will  be  able  to  gratify 
two  persons  at  the  same  time.* 

<(  I  will  endeavor, }>  said  I,  <(  to  meet  your  wishes  as  far 
as  I  possibly  can,  and  you  may  be  assured  that  you  shall 
derive  some  advantage  from  this  marriage.* 

And  I  kept  my  word  by  shortly  after  obtaining  for  the 
mare'chale  a  sum  of  50,000  livres;  a  most  needful  supply, 
for  the  poor  mare'chale  had  to  re-furnish  her  house,  her 
present  fittings-up  being  no  longer  endurable  by  the  eye 
of  modish  taste:  she  likewise  received  an  augmentation 
of  20,000  livres  to  her  pension.  This  proceeding  was 
highly  acceptable  to  her,  and  the  king  afforded  his  as- 
sistance with  the  best  possible  grace.  He  could  be 
generous,  and  do  things  with  a  good  grace  when  he 
pleased. 

The  refusal  of  the  mare'chale,  which  it  was  agreed  we 
should  keep  secret,  obliged  me  to  cast  my  eyes  upon  a 
worthy  substitute,  and  I  at  length  decided  upon  selecting 
the  comtesse  de  Forcalquier,  a  lady  who  possessed  every 
charm  which  can  charm  and  attract,  joined  to  a  faultless 
reputation;  and,  setting  aside  her  strict  intimacy  with 
myself,  the  court  (envious  as  it  is)  could  find  no  fault 
with  her.  I  was  convinced  she  would  not  be  long  in 
acquiring  an  ascendency  over  the  mind  of  the  princess, 
and  I  was  equally  well  assured  she  would  never  turn 
this  influence  against  myself;  this  was  a  point  of  no 
small  importance  to  me. 

Madame  de  Forcalquier  most  ardently  desired  the  place 
of  lady  of  honor,  without  flattering  herself  with  any  hopes 


326  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

of  obtaining  it;  and,  not  liking  to  ask  me  openly  for  if, 
she  applied  to  the  due  de  Cosse".  I  felt  some  regret 
that  she  had  gone  to  work  in  so  circuitous  a  manner, 
and  in  consequence  wrote  her  the  following  note:  — 

v  MADAM,  —  I  am  aware  that  you  are  desirous  of  obtaining  the  post 
of  lady  of  honor.  You  should  not  have  forgotten  that  I  am  suffi- 
ciently your  friend  to  have  forwarded  your  wishes  by  every  possible 
exertion.  Why  did  you  apply  to  a  third  person  in  preference  to 
seeking  my  aid  ?  I  really  am  more  than  half  angry  with  you  for  so 
doing.  Believe  me,  my  friends  need  not  the  intervention  of  any  medi- 
ator to  secure  my  best  services.  You,  too,  will  regret  not  having 
jnade  your  first  application  to  me,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  was  re- 
serving for  you  the  very  place  you  were  seeking  by  so  circuitous  a 
route.  Yes,  before  you  had  asked  it,  the  post  of  lady  of  honor  was 
yours.  I  might  have  sought  in  vain  for  a  person  more  eminently 
qualified  for  the  office  than  yourself,  or  one  in  whom  I  could  place 
more  unlimited  confidence.  Come,  my  friend,  I  pray  of  you,  not  to 
thank  me,  who  have  found  sufficient  reward  in  the  pleasure  of  obliging 
you,  but  to  acknowledge  the  extreme  kindness  and  alacrity  with 
which  his  majesty  has  forwarded  your  wishes. 

w  Believe  me,  dear  madam, 

<(  Yours,  very  sincerely, 

COMTESSE  DU  BARRY.» 


Madame  de  Forcalquier  was  not  long  in  obeying  the 
summons  contained  in  my  note;  she  embraced  me  with 
the  warmest  gratitude  and  friendship,  delighted  at  find- 
ing herself  so  eligibly  established  at  court,  for  at  that 
period  every  person  regarded  the  comte  d'Artois  as  the 
only  hope  of  the  monarchy  ;  and  blinded  by  the  universal 
preference  bestowed  on  him,  the  young  prince  flattered 
himself  that  the  crown  would  infallibly  ornament  his 
brows.  I  have  been  told,  that  when  first  the  queen's 
pregnancy  was  perceived,  a  general  lamentation  was 
heard  throughout  the  castle,  and  all  ranks  united  in  de- 
ploring an  event  which  removed  the  comte  d'Artois 
from  the  immediate  succession  to  the  throne. 

Up  to  the  present  moment  I  knew  Madame  de  For- 
calquier only  as  one  whose  many  charms,  both  of  mind 
and  person,  joined  to  great  conversational  powers  and 
the  liveliest  wit,  had  rendered  her  the  idol  of  society, 
and  obtained  for  her  the  appellation  of  Bellissima.  I 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  327 

knew  not  that  this  woman,  so  light  and  trifling  in  ap- 
pearance, was  capable  of  one  of  those  lively  and  sincere 
attachments,  which  neither  time  nor  change  of  fortune 
could  destroy  or  diminish.  She  had  a  particular  friend, 
a  madame  Boncault,  the  widow  of  a  stockbroker,  and  she 
was  anxious  to  contribute  to  her  well-doing.  With  this 
view  she  solicited  of  me  the  place  of  lady  in  waiting  for 
this  much-esteemed  individual.  Astonished  at  the  re- 
quest I  put  a  hasty  negative  on  it. 

*  If  you  refuse  me  this  fresh  favor, >J  said  madame  de 
Forcalquier,  c<  you  will  prevent  me  from  profiting  by  your 
kindness  to  myself.* 

(<  And  why  so  ?  B  inquired  I. 

(<  I  owe  to  madame  Boncault, w  answered  she,  <(  more 
than  my  life;  I  am  indebted  to  her  for  tranquillity, 
honor,  and  the  high  estimation  in  which  the  world  has 
been  pleased  to  hold  me.  I  have  now  an  opportunity  of 
proving  my  gratitude,  and  I  beseech  of  you  to  assist  my 
endeavors.  ® 

(<  But  tell  me,  first,*  cried  I,  "what  is  the  nature  of 
this  very  important  service  you  say  madame  de  Boncault 
has  rendered  you ;  is  it  a  secret,  or  may  I  hear  it  ? w 

<(  Certainly, w  replied  the  countess,  *  although  the  re- 
cital is  calculated  to  bring  the  blush  of  shame  into  my 
cheek.  Are  we  alone,  and  secure  from  interruption  ? }> 

I  rang  and  gave  orders  that  no  person  should  be  suf- 
fered to  disturb  us;  after  which  madame  de  Forcalquier 
proceeded  as  follows:  — 

<(  I  was  scarcely  seventeen  years  old,  when  my  parents 
informed  me  that  they  had  disposed  of  my  hand,  and  that 
I  must  prepare  myself  to  receive  a  husband  immediately. 
My  sentiments  were  not  inquired  into,  nor,  to  confess 
the  truth,  was  such  an  investigation  usual,  or  deemed  a 
matter  of  any  import.  A  young  female  of  any  rank  has 
no  voice  in  any  transaction  till  the  day  which  follows 
her  marriage;  until  then  her  wishes  are  those  of  her 
family,  and  her  desires  bounded  by  the  rules  of  worldly 
etiquette.  I  had  scarcely  conversed  twice  or  thrice  with 
ray  future  lord,  and  then  only  for  a  few  minutes  at  a 
time,  before  he  conducted  me  to  the  foot  of  the  altar, 


338  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

there  to  pronounce  the  solemn  vow  which  bound  me  his  for 
life.  I  had  scarcely  seen  him,  and  barely  knew  whether 
he  was  agreeable  or  disagreeable.  He  was  neither  young 
nor  old,  handsome  nor  ugly,  pleasing  nor  displeasing; 
just  one  of  those  persons  of  whom  the  world  is  princi- 
pally composed;  one  of  those  men  who  enter  or  leave 
a  saloon  without  the  slightest  curiosity  being  excited  re- 
specting him.  I  had  been  told  that  I  ought  to  love  my 
husband,  and  accordingly  I  taught  myself  to  do  so;  but 
scarcely  had  the  honeymoon  waned,  than  my  fickle  part- 
ner transferred  his  affections  from  me  to  one  of  my 
attendants;  and  to  such  a  height  did  his  guilty  passion 
carry  him,  that  he  quitted  his  home  for  Italy,  carrying 
with  him  the  unfortunate  victim  of  his  seductive  arts. 
It  was  during  his  absence  that  I  first  became  acquainted 
with  madame  Boncault;  she  was  my  own  age,  and 
equally  unfortunate  in  her  domestic*  life ;  the  same  tests, 
griefs,  and  a  great  similarity  of  temper  and  disposition 
soon  united  us  in  the  bonds  of  the  firmest  friendship; 
but  as  she  possessed  a  stronger  and  more  reasonable 
mind  than  I  did,  she  forgot  her  own  sorrows  to  admin- 
ister to  mine.  However,  if  the  whole  truth  must  be 
owned,  I  ought  to  confess  that  my  chief  consolation  was 
derived  from  a  young  cousin  of  my  own,  who  freely 
lavished  upon  me  that  unbounded  affection  I  would  fain 
have  sought  from  my  husband. 

w  Meanwhile,  wearied  of  his  folly,  this  latter  returned ; 
and,  after  having  transferred  his  capricious  fancies  to  at 
least  half  a  dozen  mistresses,  he  finished  where  he  should 
have  begun  by  attaching  himself  to  her,  who,  as  his  wife, 
had  every  claim  to  his  homage.  Men  are  unaccountable 
creatures,  but  unfortunately  for  my  husband  his  senses 
returned  too  late ;  my  heart  was  too  entirely  occupied  to 
restore  him  to  that  place  he  had  so  hastily  vacated.  My 
affections  were  no  longer  mine  to  bestow,  but  equally 
shared  by  my  estimable  friend  madame  Boncault  and  my 
young  and  captivating  cousin.  I  was  a  bad  hand  at 
dissimulating,  and  M.  de  Forcalquier  perceived  enough 
of  my  sentiments  to  excite  his  jealous  suspicions,  and 
immediately  removed  with  me  to  one  of  his  estates. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  329 

(<  However,  my  cousin  (whom  my  husband  was  far  from 
suspecting)  and  madame  Boncault  accompanied  me  in  my 
retreat;  there  myself  and  my  admirer,  more  thrown  to- 
gether than  we  had  been  at  Paris,  began  insensibly  to 
lay  aside  the  restraint  we  had  hitherto  imposed  on  our 
inclinations,  and  commenced  a  train  of  imprudences  which 
would  quickly  have  betrayed  us  had  not  friendship  watched 
over  us.  The  excellent  madame  Boncault,  in  order  to 
save  my  reputation,  took  so  little  care  to  preserve  her  own, 
that  M.  de  Forcalquier  was  completely  caught  by  her 
manoeuvre.  One  morning,  finding  me  alone,  he  said, 

(<  *  Madam,  I  am  by  no  means  satisfied  with  what  is 
going  on  here.  Your  friend  is  wholly  devoid  of  shame 
and  modesty ;  she  has  been  with  us  but  one  short  fortnight, 
and  is  now  the  open  and  confessed  mistress  of  your 
cousin.  * 

<(  <  Sir,  *  exclaimed  I,  trembling  for  what  was  to  follow, 
*  you  are,  you  must  be  mistaken :  the  thing  is  impossible. 
Madame  Boncault  is  incapable  — * 

<(<  Nonsense,  madam, >  replied  M.  de  Forcalquier;  *I 
know  what  I  am  saying.  Several  things  have  induced 
me  to  suspect  for  a  long  while  what  I  now  assert  with 
perfect  confidence  of  its  truth;  but  if  you  are  still  in- 
credulous, behold  this  proof  of  guilt  which  I  found  just 
now  in  your  cousin's  chamber. } 

<(So  saying,  my  husband  put  into  my  hands  a  letter 
written  by  my  cousin  evidently  to  some  female  in  the 
chateau,  whom  he  solicited  to  admit  him  that  evening 
to  the  usual  place  of  rendezvous,  where  he  flattered  him- 
self their  late  misunderstanding  would  be  cleared  up. 

(<  After  having  read,  or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  guessed 
at  the  contents  of  this  fatal  letter,  I  conjured  my  hus- 
band to  replace  it  where  he  had  found  it,  lest  his  guests 
should  suspect  him  of  having  dishonorably  obtained  pos- 
session of  their  secret.  He  quitted  me,  and  I  hastened 
in  search  of  my  friend:  I  threw  myself  on  my  knees  be- 
fore her,  and  related  all  that  had  passed,  accusing  myself 
of  the  basest  selfishness  in  having  consented  to  save  my 
honor  at  the  expense  of  hers;  then  rising  with  renewed 
courage,  I  declared  my  intention  of  confessing  my  im- 


330 

prudence  to  my  husband.  Madame  Boncault  withheld  me. 
(Do  you  doubt  my  regard  for  you?*  asked  she;  'if  in- 
deed you  do  justice  to  my  sincere  attachment  to  you, 
permit  me  to  make  this  one  sacrifice  for  your  safety. 
Leave  your  husband  at  liberty  to  entertain  his  present 
suspicions  respecting  me,  but  grant  me  one  favor  in  your 
turn.  Speak  to  your  cousin;  request  him  to  quit  the 
chateau,  for  should  he  remain  the  truth  will  be  discov- 
ered, and  then,  my  friend,  you  are  lost  past  my  endeav- 
ors to  save  you.* 

(<  Less  generous  than  madame  Boncault,  I  consented  to 
follow  her  advice.  However,  I  have  never  forgotten  her 
generous  devotion;  and  now  that  the  opportunity  has 
presented  itself  of  proving  my  gratitude,  I  beseech  of 
you,  my  dear  countess,  to  aid  me  in  the  discharge  of  my 
debt  of  gratitude." 

As  madame  de  Forcalquier  finished  speaking,  I  threw 
myself  into  her  arms.  "From  this  moment,*  cried  I, 
"madame  Boncault  is  my  dear  and  esteemed  prottgte; 
and  if  I  have  any  influence  over  the  mind  of  the  king, 
she  shall  be  appointed  lady  in  waiting  to  our  young 
princess.  Such  a  woman  is  a  treasure,  and  I  heartily 
thank  you  for  having  mentioned  her  to  me." 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

Marriage  of  madame  Boncault  —  The  comte  de  Bourbon  Busset  — 
Marriage  of  comte  d'Hargicourt  —  Disgrace  of  the  comte  de  Broglie 
—  He  is  replaced  by  M.  Lemoine  —  The  king  complains  of  ennui  — 
Conversations  on  the  subject  —  Entry  into  Paris. 

SPITE  of  the  merit  of  madame  Boncault,  and  the  many 
eulogiums  I  bestowed  on  her  whilst  relating  her 
history  to  the  king,  I  could  not  immediately  obtain 
the  post  madame  de  Forcalquier  had  requested  for  this 
paragon  of  friends.  His  majesty  replied  to  me  by  say- 
ing, that  no  doubt  so  many  virtues  merited  a  high  reward, 
but  that  ere  madame  Boncault  could  be  appointed  lady  in 
waiting  to  his  granddaughter,  she  must  be  presented  at 
court  under  some  other  name  than  the  one  she  now  bore. 
(<  Oh,  if  that  be  all,  sire, w  replied  I,  <(  it  will  soon  be 
effected.  Ladies  who  have  the  good  fortune  to  possess  a 
rich  dowry  and  powerful  friends  need  never  look  far  for 
a  choice  of  husbands.  Only  let  madame  Boncault  have 
reason  to  reckon  upon  your  patronage,  and  she  will  have 
no  lack  of  admirers. }> 

The  king,  always  ready  to  oblige  me,  caused  it  to  be 
understood  throughout  the  chateau  that  he  was  desirous 
of  seeing  madame  Boncault  well  established,  as  he  had 
it  in  contemplation  to  confide  to  her  a  place  of  great 
trust.  Immediately  a  score  of  suitors  presented  them- 
selves; the  preference  was  given  to  the  comte  de  Bourbon 
Busset  as  the  person  most  calculated  in  every  respect  to 
answer  our  purpose;  he  possessed  elegant  manners,  an 
unblemished  reputation,  and  a  descent  so  illustrious  as  to 
be  traced  even  to  the  reigning  family.  No  sooner  were 
the  celebrations  of  this  marriage  over,  than  I  procured 
the  formal  appointment  of  madame  de  Bourbon  Busset 

(330 


332  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

to  the  post  of  lady  in  waiting  to  the  new  princess.  This 
nomination  tended  greatly  to  increase  the  high  opinion 
entertained  of  the  judgment  and  discrimination  of  the 
comtesse  de  Forcalquier,  and  you  may  easily  believe,  from 
the  friendship  I  bore  this  lady,  that  I  fully  entered  into 
her  triumph  on  the  occasion. 

When  the  comtesse  de  Bourbon  Busset  came  to  return 
me  her  acknowledgments  for  what  I  had  done,  she 
accompanied  it  with  a  request  for  a  fresh  interference 
on  my  part:  this  was  to  obtain  for  her  husband  the 
title  of  duke  and  peer.  Accordingly  I  mentioned  her 
wishes  to  the  king,  observing  at  the  same  time  how  very 
surprising  it  was  that  one  so  nearly  related  to  the  house  of 
Bourbon  should  not  have  reached  the  honors  of  the 
ducal  peerage:  to  which  Louis  XV.  replied,  that  he  had 
no  desire  to  increase  the  number  of  princes  of  the 
blood,  of  whom  there  were  quite  sufficient  of  legitimate 
birth  without  placing  the  illegitimate  upon  the  same 
footing;  that  Louis  XIV.  had  been  a  sufficient  warning 
of  the  folly  of  acting  too  indulgently  towards  these  latter, 
who  were  only  so  many  additional  enemies  to  the  royal 
authority.  To  all  this  I  answered,  that  it  was  not  fit- 
ting to  treat  the  family  of  Bourbon  Busset,  however 
illegitimate  might  be  its  origin,  as  though  it  merely  be- 
longed to  the  petite  noblesse,  etc. ;  but  my  arguments 
were  in  vain,  and,  as  the  proverb  says,  <(  I  talked  to  the 
wind.*  My  friends  recommended  me  not  to  press  the 
subject,  and  the  matter  ended  there.  However,  in  order 
to  smooth  the  refusal  as  much  as  possible,  I  procured 
M.  de  Bourbon  Busset  the  appointment  of  first  gentle- 
man usher  to  the  young  prince. 

The  establishment  of  the  comtesse  d'Artois  was  now 
formed.  M.  de  Che"glus,  bishop  of  Cahors,  had  the  post 
of  first  almoner;  and  strange  to  say,  although  a  prelate, 
was  a  man  of  irreproachable  virtue;  he  had  little  wit 
but  strong  sense,  and  was  better  known  by  his  many 
charitable  deeds  than  by  the  brilliancy  of  his  sayings. 
He  was  eminently  suited  for  the  office  now  conferred 
on  him;  and  those  who  knew  him  best  were  the  least 
surprised  to  find  the  nomination  had  fallen  on  him. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  333 

I  also  procured  a  post  in  the  establishment  of  the  young 
couple  for  my  sister-in-law,  the  comtesse  d'Hargicourt. 
Her  maiden  name  was  Fumel,  an  ancient  family  in 
Guienne,  and  M.  de  Fumel,  her  father,  was  governor  of 
the  chateau  Trompette  at  Bordeaux.  This  marriage  had 
at  first  encountered  many  difficulties  from  the  deadly 
hatred  which  existed  in  the  chateau  against  us.  Comte 
Jean,  perceiving  that  things  were  going  against  us,  applied 
to  the  king  himself  for  assistance  in  the  affair.  Louis  XV. 
could  not  endure  him,  but  his  dislike  was  manifested  only 
by  an  uneasy  timidity  in  his  presence,  and  he  freely 
granted  any  request  that  would  the  soonest  free  him 
from  his  presence.  The  king  acted  upon  the  same  prin- 
ciple in  the  present  conjuncture;  he  bestowed  a  million 
of  livres  upon  the  comte  d'Hargicourt,  that  is  to  say, 
500,000  livres  to  be  employed  in  paying  the  debts  of  the 
comte  de  Fumel,  and  in  freeing  his  estates  from  a  dowry 
of  60,000  livres  to  be  paid  to  his  daughter  on  her  marriage, 
with  various  other  clearances  and  payments ;  besides  this 
my  brother-in-law,  comte  d'Hargicourt,  was  appointed 
captain  in  the  prince's  Swiss  guards,  one  of  the  most 
honorable  commissions  that  could  have  been  conferred 
on  him. 

The  comte  de  Crussel  and  the  prince  d'Henin  were 
named  captains  of  the  guard  to  M.  d'Artois.  This  prince 
d'Henin  was  of  such  diminutive  stature  that  he  was  some- 
times styled,  byway  of  jest,  the  <( prince  of  dwarfs,*  or 
"the  dwarf  of  princes.*  He  was  the  beloved  nephew  of 
the  mare*chale  de  Mirepoix,  whose  fondness  could  not 
supply  him  with  the  sense  he  so  greatly  needed;  he  was 
besides  very  profligate,  and  continually  running  into  some 
difficulty  or  other  by  his  eager  pursuit  after  pleasure.  It 
is  related  of  him,  that  the  due  de  Lauragnais,  wearied  with 
seeing  the  prince  d'Henin  for  ever  fluttering  about  his 
mistress,  mademoiselle  Arnoult,  drew  up  a  consultation, 
to  inquire  whether  it  were  possible  to  die  of  ennui:  this 
he  submitted  to  several  physicians  and  celebrated  lawyers, 
who  having  united  in  replying  affirmatively,  he  caused 
the  consultation  with  its  answer  to  be  forwarded  to  the 
prince  d'Henin,  warning  him  henceforward  to  cease  his 


334  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

visits  to  mademoiselle  Arnoult;  or,  in  the  event  of  her 
death,  he  would  certainly  be  taken  up  as  a  party  con- 
cerned in  effecting  it. 

The  opposite  party  was  now  more  irritated  than  ever 
by  the  many  places  and  employments  I  caused  to  be 
given  either  to  my  own  friends,  or  to  those  for  whom 
they  solicited  my  interest.  The  duchesse  de  Grammont, 
flattering  herself  that  she  might  now  take  the  field  against 
me  with  advantage,  arrived  in  Paris  one  fine  morning 
from  Chanteloup.  Those  about  me  were  full  of  wrath,  I 
know  not  for  why,  at  her  arrival,  but  I  explained  to  them, 
that  they  were  mistaken  in  supposing  madame  de  Gram- 
mont an  exile ;  she  had  voluntarily  accompanied  her  brother 
into  his  retreat,  and  when  that  was  no  longer  agreeable 
to  her  she  returned  to  Paris.  However,  her  journey  did 
neither  good  nor  harm;  she  had  many  invitations  to 
fetes  given  in  honor  of  herself,  was  frequently  asked  to 
dinners,  balls,  etc.,  but  that  was  all;  no  person  set  their 
wits  to  work  to  reinstate  her  in  the  good  graces  of  the 
king.  I  soon  comprehended  the  forlorn  hopes  of  my 
poor  enemy,  and  my  former  animosity  soon  gave  way  to 
the  play  with  which  she  inspired  me. 

About  the  period  of  the  marriage  of  the  comtesse 
d'Artois,  an  individual  of  some  eminence  fell  into  dis- 
grace; this  was  the  comte  de  Broglie.  This  gentleman, 
as  you  know,  was  private  minister  to  Louis  XV.,  in- 
trusted for  some  time  past  with  his  correspondence,  and 
affected  the  airs  of  a  favorite.  He  solicited  upon  the 
present  occasion  the  honor  of  going  to  meet  the  prin- 
cess at  the  bridge  of  Beauvoisin,  a  request  which  was 
granted.  This  was  not  sufficient  for  him;  he  begged 
for  a  month's  leave  of  absence,  with  permission  to  pro- 
ceed to  Turin:  this  depended  on  the  due  d'Aiguillon, 
who  was  by  no  means  partial  to  the  comte  de  Broglie. 
He  said  to  me  when  speaking  of  him, 

<(  I  feel  no  inclination  to  oblige  this  minister ;  on  the 
contrary,  he  may  wait  long  enough  for  what  he  desires 
as  far  as  I  am  concerned.* 

<(  I  fear  he  will  be  greatly  offended  with  you,  *  an- 
swered I. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  335 

(<Oh,  never  mind  that,*  replied  the  duke;  *if  he  grows 
sullen  about  it,  why  well;  if  he  is  loud  and  vehement, 
better  still ;  and  should  his  anger  lead  him  to  the  com- 
mission of  any  act  of  folly,  depend  upon  it  we  will 
take  advantage  of  it.* 

As  I  foresaw,  the  comte  de  Broglie  was  deeply  of- 
fended, and  wrote  to  the  due  d'Aiguillon  a  letter  full 
of  imprudent  expressions.  This  was  exactly  what  this 
latter  desired,  who  eagerly  carried  and  read  the  paper  to 
the  different  members  of  the  council,  who  heard  it  with 
every  expression  of  surprise  and  displeasure;  the  king 
viewed  it  as  a  piece  of  open  rebellion,  and  resolved  to 
punish  the  writer  with  his  heaviest  displeasure ;  the  due 
d'Aiguillon  asked  nothing  better,  and  ere  an  hour  had 
elapsed,  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere  received  orders  to  draw 
up  a  lettre  de  cachet  in  which  the  king  expressed  his 
discontent  of  the  comte  de  Broglie,  deprived  him  of  the 
commission  he  had  given  him  to  go  and  receive  the 
princess  of  Savoy,  and  exiled  him  to  Buffe"e,  one  of  his 
estates  near  Angouleme. 

This  was  a  matter  of  great  talk  at  the  chateau;  no  one 
could  imagine  what  had  made  the  comte  de  Broglie  con- 
duct himself  so  foolishly.  It  was  at  this  period  that  M.  de 
Marchault  said  of  him,  when  he  saw  him  pass  his  house 
on  his  way  to  Buffe"e,  <(  He  has  the  ministry  by  the  tail.8 

M.  de  Broglie  having  gone,  his  majesty  was  compelled 
to  look  out  for  another  confidant,  and  raised  to  that 
eminence  M.  Lemoine,  clerk  of  his  closet.  M.  Lemoine, 
in  an  inferior  station  had  shown  himself  competent  to 
fill  the  highest  offices  in  the  state.  Such  abilities  are 
rare.  He  was  an  excellent  lawyer,  admirable  chancellor 
of  exchequer,  and  had  the  king  said  to  him,  *  I  make 
thee  a  general,*  he  would,  the  next  day,  have  com- 
manded armies  and  gained  victories.  Despite  his  merit 
he  lived  long  unknown:  the  reason  was  obvious  —  he 
knew  nothing  of  intrigue;  and  his  wife,  though  pretty, 
was  discreet;  and  these  are  not  the  means  to  advance  a 
man  at  court. 

Louis  XV.,  who  knew  something  of  men  when  he 
chose  to  study  them,  was  not  slow  in  detecting  the  tal- 


336  MEMOIRS   OP  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

ent  of  Lemoine,  and  in  consequence  gave  him  that 
station  in  which  de  Broglie  had  been  installed.  No 
sooner  had  Lemoine  glanced  over  the  affairs  submitted 
to  his  control,  than  he  became  master  of  them,  as  much 
as  though  they  had  occupied  the  whole  of  his  life,  and 
in  a  short  time  he  gave  to  his  situation  an  importance 
which  it  had  never  before  reached.  Unwilling,  however, 
to  incur  hatred,  he  enveloped  himself  in  profound  mys- 
tery, so  much  so  that  nobody,  with  the  exception  of  Messrs. 
d'Aiguillon  and  de  Sartines,  knew  anything  of  his  labors. 
This  pleased  the  king,  who  was  averse  to  publicity. 

The  due  d'Aiguillon  could  not  conceal  his  joy  at  being 
freed  from  de  Broglie,  his  most  troublesome  colleague. 
It  was  a  grand  point  gained  for  him,  as  he  could  now 
make  sure  of  the  post  of  secretary-at-war,  the  main 
object  of  his  ambition.  He  wished  to  be  placed  in  the 
due  de  Choiseul's  position,  and  to  effect  this  he  redoubled 
his  attentions  towards  the  king,  who,  though  not  really 
regarding  him,  at  length  treated  him  as  the  dearest  of 
his  subjects.  There  are  inexplicable  mysteries  in  weak 
characters ;  obstinacy  alarms  them,  and  they  yield  because 
they  hate  resistance. 

The  king  was  ennuied  to  death,  and  became  daily  more 
dull  and  heavy.  I  saw  his  gloom  without  knowing  how 
to  disperse  it,  but  it  did  not  make  me  particularly  un- 
comfortable. Occupied  with  my  dear  due  de  Brissac  I 
almost  forgot  his  majesty  for  him :  the  mare'chale  de  Mire- 
poix,  who  had  more  experience  than  I  had  in  the  affairs 
at  Versailles,  and  who  knew  the  king  well,  was  alarmed 
at  my  negligence,  and  spoke  to  me  of  it. 

(<  Do  you  not  see, w  she  said,  one  day,  <(  what  a  crisis  is 
at  hand  ?  » 

<(  What  crisis  ? "    I  asked. 

<(The  king  is  dying  of  ennui.* 

«True.» 

w  Does  it  not  alarm  you  ? w  said  the  mare'chale. 

«  Why  should  it  ?  » 

<(  What  makes  him  so  ?  Think  well  when  I  tell  you 
that  your  mortal  enemy  has  seized  Louis  XV. ;  your  most 
redoubtable  enemy,  ennuil  * 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  337 

<(  Very  well ;  but  what  would  you  have  me  do  ?  " 

<(  You  must  amuse  him. " 

<(  That  is  easier  said  than  done.  * 

<(You  are  right,  but  it  is  compulsory.  Believe  me, 
kings  are  not  moulded  like  other  men:  early  disgusted 
with  all  things,  they  only  exist  in  a  variety  of  pleasures; 
what  pleases  them  this  evening  will  displease  them  to- 
morrow; they  wish  to  be  happy  in  a  different  way. 
Louis  XV.  is  more  kingly  in  this  respect  than  any  other. 
You  must  devise  amusements  for  him." 

<(  Alas, "  I  replied,  *  how  ?  Shall  I  give  him  a  new 
tragedy  of  la  Harpe's, — he  will  yawn;  an  opera  of  Mar- 
montel, —  he  will  go  to  sleep.  Heavens!  how  unfortunate 
I  am!" 

(<  Really,  my  dear, "  replied  the  marechale,  <(  I  cannot 
advise  you;  but  I  can  quote  a  powerful  example.  In 
such  a  case  madame  de  Pompadour  would  have  admitted 
a  rival  near  the  throne." 

(( Madame  de  Pompadour  was  very  amiable,  my  dear," 
I  replied,  aand  I  would  have  done  so  once  or  twice,  but 
the  part  of  Mother  Gourdan  does  not  suit  me;  I  prefer 
that  of  her  young  ladies." 

At  these  words  the  mare'chale  laughed,  whilst  I  made 
a  long  grave  face.  At  this  instant  comte  Jean  entered, 
and  exclaimed, 

<{  Really,  ladies,  you  present  a  singular  contrast.  May 
I  ask  you,  sister,  what  causes  this  sorrow  ?  What  ails 
you  ? " 

(<  Oh,  brother !  "  was  my  response,  (<  the  king  is  dyingf 
of  ennui. " 

"That  is  no  marvel,"  said   my  brother-in-law. 

<(And  to  rouse  him,"  I  added,  <( it  is  necessary,  the 
mare'chale  says,  that  I  must  take  a  pretty  girl  by  the  hand, 
and  present  her  to  the  king  with  these  words :  <  Sire,  hav- 
ing found  that  you  grow  tired  of  me,  I  present  this  lady 
to  you,  that  you  may  amuse  yourself  with  her.  * " 

"That  would  be  very  fine,"  replied  comte  Jean;  <(it 
would  show  him  that  you  had  profited  by  my  advice." 
Then,  whispering  in  my  ear,  <(You  know,  sister,  I  am 
capable  of  the  greatest  sacrifices  for  the  king." 

M 


338  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

(<  What  are  you  saying,  comte  Jean  ?  *  asked  the 
mare"chale,  who  had  heard  some  words. 

<(I  said  to  my  sister,*  answered  he,  coolly,  "that  she 
ought  to  be  executed  to  please  the  king." 

<(And  you,  too,  brother,*  I  cried. 

"Yes,  sister,*  said  he,  with  a  theatrical  tone,  <(  I  see 
the  dire  necessity,  and  submit  to  it  unrepiningly.  Let 
us  yield  to  fate,  or  rather,  let  us  so  act  as  to  make  it 
favorable  to  us.  The  king  requires  some  amusement,  and 
let  us  find  him  a  little  wench.  We  must  take  heed  not 
to  present  any  fine  lady:  no,  no;  by  all  the  devils  — ! 
Excuse  me,  mare"chale,  'tis  a  habit  I  have.* 

<{  It  is  nature,  you  mean,*  replied  the  mare"chale:  "the 
nightingale  is  born  to  sing,  and  you,  comte  Jean,  were 
born  to  swear ;  is  it  not  true  ? w 

**•  Morbleu,  madam,  you  are  right.* 

After  this  conversation  the  mare'chale  went  out,  and 
comte  Jean  departed  to  arrange  his  plans  for  the  king's 
amusement. 

However,  the  ennui  of  Louis  XV.  was  somewhat  dis- 
sipated by  the  tidings  of  the  various  incidents  which  oc- 
curred at  the  grand  entry  of  the  dauphin  and  dauphiness 
into  Paris.  We  learnt  that  the  due  de  Brissac,  as  gov- 
ernor of  Paris,  on  receiving  the  dauphiness,  said, 

"Madam,  you  see  about  you  two  hundred  thousand 
lovers.*  He  was  right;  the  princess  looked  like  an 
angel.  I  had  taken  a  mortal  aversion  to  her.  Alas! 
circumstances  have  too  fully  avenged  me:  this  unfortu- 
nate queen  loses  popularity  daily;  her  perfidious  friends 
have  sacrificed  her  to  their  interests.  I  pity  her. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

Visit  from  a  stranger — Madame  de  Pompadour  and  a  Jacobinical 
monk  —  Continuation  of  this  history  —  Deliverance  of  a  state  pris- 
oner—  A  meeting  with  the  stranger. 

ONE  day,  at  an  hour  at  which.  I  was  not  accustomed 
to  see  any  person,  a  lady  called  and  requested  to 
see  me;  she  was  informed  that  I  was  visible  to  no 
person.  No  matter,  she  persisted  in  her  request,  saying 
that  she  had  to  speak  to  me  upon  matters  of  the  first 
importance,  and  declared,  that  I  should  be  delighted  with 
her  visit.  However,  my  servants,  accustomed  to  the  arti- 
fices practised  by  persons  wishing  to  see  me  for  interested 
purposes,  heeded  very  little  the  continued  protestations 
of  my  strange  applicant,  and  peremptorily  refused  to 
admit  her;  upon  which  the  unknown  retired  with  the 
indication  of  extreme  anger. 

Two  hours  afterwards  a  note,  bearing  no  signature,  was 
brought  me,  in  which  the  late  scene  was  described  to 
me,  and  I  was  further  informed,  that  the  lady,  so  abruptly 
repulsed  by  my  servants,  had  presented  herself  to  com- 
municate things  which  concerned  not  only  my  own  per- 
sonal safety  but  the  welfare  of  all  France;  a  frightful 
catastrophe  was  impending,  which  there  was  still  time  to 
prevent ;  the  means  of  so  doing  were  offered  me,  and  I  was 
conjured  not  to  reject  them.  The  affair,  if  treated  with 
indifference,  would  bring  on  incalculable  misfortunes  and 
horrors,  to  which  I  should  be  the  first  victim.  All  this 
apparent  mystery  would  be  cleared  up,  and  the  whole 
affair  explained,  if  I  would  repair  on  the  following  day,  at 
one  o'clock,  to  the  Baths  of  Apollo.  A  grove  of  trees 
there  was  pointed  out  as  a  safe  place  of  rendezvous,  and 
being  so  very  near  my  residence,  calculated  to  remove  any 
fears  I  might  entertain  of  meeting  a  stranger,  who,  as 

(339) 


340  MEMOIRS  OP  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

the  note  informed  me,  possessed  the  means  of  entering 
this  secluded  spot.  I  was  again  conjured  to  be  punctual 
to  the  appointed  hour  as  I  valued  my  life. 

The  mysterious  and  solemn  tone  of  this  singular  epis- 
tle struck  me  with  terror.  Madame  de  Mirepoix  was 
with  me  at  the  moment  I  received  it.  This  lady  had  a 
peculiar  skill  in  physiognomy,  and  the  close  attention 
she  always  paid  to  mine  was  frequently  extremely  em- 
barrassing and  disagreeable  She  seemed  (as  usual)  on 
the  present  occasion  to  read  all  that  was  passing  in  my 
mind;  however,  less  penetrating  eyes  than  hers  might 
easily  have  perceived,  by  my  sudden  agitation,  that  the 
paper  I  held  in  my  hand  contained  something  more 
than  usual. 

(<  What  ails  you  ?  *  asked  she,  with  the  familiarity  our 
close  intimacy  warranted;  <(does  that  note  bring  you 
any  bad  news  ?  * 

"No,"  said  I;  (<it  tells  me  nothing;  but  it  leaves  me 
ample  room  for  much  uneasiness  and  alarm:  but,  after 
all,  it  may  be  merely  some  hoax,  some  foolish  jest 
played  off  at  my  expense;  but  judge  for  yourself."  So 
saying,  I  handed  her  the  letter:  when  she  had  perused 
it,  she  said, 

<(  Upon  my  word,  if  I  were  in  your  place,  I  would 
clear  up  this  mystery;  good  advice  is  not  so  easily 
met  with  as  to  make  it  a  matter  of  difficulty  to  go  as 
far  as  the  Baths  of  Apollo  to  seek  it.  It  is  by  no 
means  impossible  but  that,  as  this  paper  tells  you,  some 
great  peril  is  hanging  over  you.  The  marquise  de  Pom- 
padour," continued  madame  de  Mirepoix,  <(  received  more 
than  once  invitations  similar  to  this,  which  she  never  failed 
to  attend;  and  I  recollect  one  circumstance,  in  which  she 
had  no  cause  to  regret  having  done  so :  without  the  kind 
offices  of  one  of  these  anonymous  writers  it  is  very  pos- 
sible that  she  might  have  expired  heart  broken,  and  per- 
haps forsaken  in  some  state  prison,  instead  of  ending  her 
days  in  the  chateau  of  Versailles,  honored  even  to  the 
tomb  by  the  friendship  and  regard  of  the  king  of  France. w 

I  asked  my  friend  to  explain  her  last  observation,  and 
she  replied  as  follows:  — 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  341 

(<  One  day  an  anonymous  billet,  similar  to  this,  was 
left  for  madame  de  Pompadour:  it  requested  her  to  re- 
pair, at  a  specified  hour,  to  the  church  of  the  Jacobins, 
rue  Saint  Honore",  in  Paris,  where  she  was  promised  some 
highly  important  communications.  The  marchioness  was 
punctual  to  the  rendezvous;  and,  as  she  entered  the 
church,  a  Jacobite,  so  entirely  wrapped  in  his  capuchin 
as  to  conceal  his  features,  approached  her,  took  her  by 
the  hand,  and  conducted  her  to  an  obscure  chapel ;  where, 
requesting  her  to  sit  down,  he  took  a  seat  himself,  and 
began  as  follows :  — 

<(  <  Madam,  you  are  about  to  lose  the  favor  of  the  king ; 
a  party  is  at  work  to  give  a  new  mistress  to  the  king; 
the  lady  is  young,  beautiful,  witty,  and  possessed  of  an 
insatiable  ambition ;  for  the  last  six  months  she  has  been 
in  the  daily  habit  of  seeing  the  king,  unknown  to  you 
and  all  the  court,  and  this  has  been  accomplished  in  the 
following  manner:  her  father  is  valet  de  chambre  to  his 
majesty,  and  she  has  an  only  brother,  two  years  younger 
than  herself,  whose  astonishing  resemblance  to  her  has 
created  continual  mistakes;  this  brother  is  promised  the 
inheritance  of  his  father's  office;  and,  under  pretext  of 
acquiring  the  due  initiation  for  future  post,  has  been 
permitted  every  morning  to  attend  the  king's  rising. 

<c  *  However,  this  embryo  page  is  the  sister,  who  comes 
each  morning  disguised  in  her  brother's  clothes.  The 
king  has  had  many  private  conversations  with  the  design- 
ing beauty ;  and,  seduced  by  her  many  charms  of  mind  and 
person,  as  well  as  dazzled  by  the  hidden  and  concealed 
nature  of  their  intrigue,  finds  his  passion  for  her  in- 
creases from  day  to  day.  Many  are  the  designing  persons 
ready  to  profit  by  the  transfer  of  the  king's  affections 
from  you  to  this  fresh  favorite;  and  they  flatter  them- 
selves the  desired  event  is  close  at  hand.  You  are  to 
be  confined  by  a  lettre  de  cachet  to  the  isle  of  St.  Margaret, 
for  the  place  of  your  exile  is  already  chosen.  The  prin- 
cipal conspirators  are  two  powerful  noblemen,  one  of 
whom  is  reputed  your  most  intimate  friend.  I  learned 
all  these  particulars,*  continued  the  Jacobite,  ( from  a 
young  penitent,  but  not  under  the  seal  of  confession. 


342  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

This  penitent  is  the  particular  friend  of  the  female  in 
question,  who  confided  the  secret  to  her,  from  whom  I 
received  it,  accompanied  by  the  most  flattering  promises 
of  future  protection  and  advancement.  These  splendid 
prospects  excited  her  jealous  envy,  and  she  came  here 
to  confess  the  whole  to  me,  requesting  I  would  seek  you 
out  and  inform  you  of  the  whole  affair.  Here  is  a  letter 
she  obtained  unknown  to  her  aspiring  friend,  which  she 
wishes  you  to  see,  as  a  pledge  of  the  veracity  of  her  state- 
ment.* The  marchioness  cast  her  eyes  over  the  paper 
held  out  to  her  by  the  Jacobite.  It  was  a  letter  addressed 
by  the  king  to  his  new  mistress. 

w  You  may  imagine  the  terror  of  madame  de  Pompa- 
dour, her  anxiety  and  impatience  to  return  to  Versailles. 
However,  ere  she  quitted  the  friendly  monk  she  assured 
him  of  her  lasting  gratitude,  and  begged  of  him  to  point 
out  how  she  could  best  prove  it.  'For  myself,*  replied 
he,  <  I  ask  nothing ;  but  if  you  would  render  me  your 
debtor,  confer  the  first  vacant  bishopric  on  a  man  whom 
I  greatly  esteem,  the  abbe"  de  Barral.'  You  will  easily 
suppose  that  the  abbe*  de  Barral  had  not  long  to  wait  for 
his  preferment :  as  for  the  Jacobite  the  marchioness  never 
again  saw  or  heard  anything  of  him.  She  mentioned  him 
to  the  newly  appointed  bishop,  who  could  not  even  un- 
derstand to  what  she  alluded.  She  related  the  affair, 
when  he  called  heaven  to  witness  that  he  knew  nothing 
of  any  Jacobite  either  directly  or  indirectly.* 

<(  And  how  did  the  marchioness  get  rid  of  her  rival  ? w 
inquired  I  of  madame  de  Mirepoix. 

(<By  a  very  simple  and  effective  expedient.  She  sent 
for  the  due  de  Saint  Florentin,  whom  she  requested  im- 
mediately to  expedite  two  lettres  de  cachet;  one  for  the 
valet  de  chambre,  who  was  shut  up  in  the  chateau  de 
Lectoure,  and  the  other  for  the  daughter,  whom  the  mar- 
chioness sent  to  the  isle  of  St.  Marguerite,  to  occupy  the 
place  she  had  so  obligingly  destined  for  herself. y> 

"And  now,"  asked  I,  *did  these  unfortunate  people 
ever  get  out  of  prison  ?  w 

<(  That  I  know  not, w  answered  the  mare'chale ;  <(  and,  God 
forgive  me,  for  aught  I  ever  inquired  they  maybe  there  now. w 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  343 

<(If  so,*  cried  I,  "the  conduct  of  both  the  king  and 
the  due  de  la  Vrilliere  is  abominable  and  unpardonable.* 

<(  Why,  bless  your  heart,  my  dear, *  exclaimed  the  mare*- 
chale,  <(do  you  expect  that  his  majesty  should  recollect 
all  the  pretty  women  he  has  intrigued  with,  any  more 
than  the  poor  duke  can  be  expected  to  keep  a  list  in 
his  memory  of  the  different  persons  he  has  sent  to  a 
prison  ?  He  would  require  a  prodigious  recollection  for 
such  a  purpose.* 

This  unfeeling  reply  filled  me  with  indignation,  and 
redoubled  the  pity  I  already  felt  for  the  poor  prisoners. 
I  immediately  despatched  a  note  to  the  due  de  Saint 
Florentin,  requesting  he  would  come  to  me  without  de- 
lay: he  hastened  to  obey  my  summons.  When  he  had 
heard  my  recital  he  remained  silent  some  minutes,  as 
though  collecting  his  recollections  upon  the  subject,  and 
then  replied, 

<(  I  do  indeed  remember  that  some  obscure  female  was 
confined  in  the  chateau  of  the  isle  Sainte  Marguerite 
at  the  request  of  madame  de  Pompadour,  but  I  cannot 
now  say,  whether  at  the  death  of  the  marchioness  any 
person  thought  of  interceding  for  her  release.® 

"That  is  precisely  what  I  wish  to  ascertain,*  cried  I; 
(<  return  to  your  offices,  monsieur  le  due,  and  use  your 
best  endeavors  to  discover  whether  this  unfortunate  girl 
and  her  parent  are  still  in  confinement;  nor  venture 
again  in  my  presence  until  you  have  despatched  the 
order  for  their  deliverance:  you  will  procure  a  convey- 
ance for  them  from  their  prison  to  Paris  at  the  expense 
of  government.  You  understand,  my  lord  ?  * 

The  following  morning  the  duke  brought  me  the  de- 
sired information.  He  told  me,  that  the  father  had  been 
dead  seven  years,  but  the  daughter  still  remained  a  pris- 
oner: the  order  for  restoring  her  to  liberty  had  been  for- 
warded the  night  preceding.  I  will  now  briefly  relate 
the  end  of  this  mournful  story. 

Three  weeks  after  this  I  received  an  early  visit  from 
the  due  de  la  Vrilliere,  who  came  to  apprize  me,  that 
my  prottgte  from  the  isle  of  St.  Marguerite  was  in  my 
antechamber  awaiting  permission  to  offer  me  her  grateful 


344  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

thanks.  I  desired  she  might  instantly  be  admitted:  her 
appearance  shocked  me ;  not  a  single  trace  of  that  beauty 
which  had  proved  so  fatal  to  its  possessor  now  remained. 
She  was  pale,  emaciated,  and  her  countenance,  on 
which  care  and  confinement  had  imprinted  the  wrinkles 
of  premature  old  age,  was  sad  and  dejected  even  to 
idiocy.  I  could  have  wished  that  madame  de  Pompa- 
dour, by  way  of  punishment  for  her  cruelty,  could  but 
have  seen  the  object  of  her  relentless  persecution.  I 
think  she  would  have  blushed  for  herself.  When  the 
poor  girl  entered  my  apartment  she  looked  wildly  around 
her,  and  casting  herself  at  my  feet,  inquired  with  many 
tears  to  what  motive  she  was  indebted  for  my  generous 
interference  in  her  behalf.  The  due  de  la  Vrilliere  con- 
templated with  the  utmost  sang  froid  the  spectacle  of  a 
misery  he  had  so  largely  contributed  to.  I  requested  of  him 
to  leave  us  to  ourselves.  I  then  raised  my  weeping  prot^gfa, 
consoled  her  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  and  then  requested 
her  to  give  me  the  history  of  her  captivity.  Her  story 
was  soon  told:  she  had  been  an  inhabitant  of  the  same 
prison  for  seventeen  years  and  five  months,  without 
either  seeing  a  human  being,  or  hearing  the  sound  of  a 
human  voice.  Her  recital  made  me  shudder,  and  I 
promised  her  that  henceforward  her  life  should  be  ren- 
dered as  happy  as  it  had  hitherto  been  miserable. 

The  king  supped  with  me  that  evening.  By  some 
singular  chance  he  was  on  this  occasion  in  the  happiest 
temper  possible:  he  laughed,  sung,  joked  with  such  un- 
usual spirits,  that  I  hesitated  ere  I  disturbed  a  gaiety 
to  which  Louis  XV.  was  so  little  prone.  However,  I 
took  him  aside,  saying,  "Sire,  I  have  to  ask  atonement 
and  reparation  for  a  most  horrible  piece  of  injustice." 
After  which,  I  proceeded  to  acquaint  him  with  the  dis- 
tressing history  of  his  unfortunate  mistress.  He  appeared 
perfectly  well  to  recollect  the  female  to  whom  I  alluded; 
and  when  I  ceased  speaking,  he  said,  with  a  half-suppressed 
sigh, 

<(Poor  creature!  she  has  indeed  been  unfortunate;  sev- 
enteen years  and  five  months  in  prison!  The  due  de  la 
Vrilliere  is  greatly  to  blame  in  the  affair;  but  when  once 


«OH,    COSSE,   HAVE   I  HURT    YOU,   HAVE  I  HURT 

YOU?* 


By  courtesy  of  Mr.  David  Belasco  and  Mrs.  Leslie 
Carter.  This  scene  is  from  David  Belasco's  play, 
Du  Barry,  played  at  Belasco's  Theatre,  New  York, 
with  Mrs.  I,eslie  Carter  as  i,a  Du  Barry. 


COMTESSE  DU   BARRY  345 

he  has  placed  persons  between  four  walls,  he  thinks  he 
has  fulfilled  the  whole  of  his  duty.  He  should  recollect, 
that  a  good  memory  is  a  necessary  qualification  for  the 
situation  he  holds ;  it  is  indeed  an  imperative  duty  in  him 
to  think  of  the  poor  wretches  he  deprives  of  their  liberty.  * 

<(And  in  you  too,  sire,"  interrupted  I;  <(and  it  appears 
to  me  that  you  have  lost  sight  of  it,  in  the  present  af- 
fair, as  culpably  as  your  minister.* 

(<  I  confess  it,  indeed, *  answered  Louis  XV. ;  <(  but  the 
unfortunate  sufferer  herself  was  not  without  a  due  share 
of  blame  in  the  matter.  Her  presumption  had  greatly 
irritated  madame  de  Pompadour,  who  punished  her  as 
she  thought  fit:  of  course  I  could  not,  consistently  with 
the  regard  I  professed  for  the  marchioness,  interfere  in 
the  execution  of  her  vengeance.* 

<(  I  do  not  agree  with  you, *  said  I. 

<(  Why,  what  else  could  I  do  ?  *  asked  Louis  XV. ,  with 
the  most  imperturbable  calmness ;  <(  she  had  superior 
claims,  was  acknowledged  as  chief  favorite,  and  I  could 
not  refuse  her  the  sacrifice  of  a  mere  temporary  caprice.8 

"Very  well  said,*  answered  I,  "and  founded  upon  ex- 
cellent principles;  but  surely  it  was  not  necessary  to 
shut  up  the  object  of  your  caprice  in  a  state  prison, 
and,  above  all,  to  leave  her  there  for  such  a  length  of 
time.  However,  the  mischief  is  done;  and  all  we  have 
to  think  of  is  to  repair  it.  You  have  now,  sire,  a  fine 
opportunity  of  displaying  your  royal  munificence.* 

"You  think,  then,*  returned  Louis  XV.,  "that  I  am 
bound  to  make  this  unhappy  girl  some  present?  Well, 
I  will;  to-morrow  I  will  send  her  1000  louis.* 

"  A  thousand  louis  !  *  exclaimed  I,  clasping  my  hands ; 
*  what,  as  a  recompense  for  seventeen  years'  imprison- 
ment ?  No,  no,  sire,  you  shall  not  get  off  so  easily ;  you 
must  settle  on  her  a  pension  of  12,000  livres,  and  pre- 
sent her  with  an  order  for  100,000  more  as  an  imme- 
diate supply.  * 

(<  Bless  me !  *  ejaculated  the  king,  (<  why  all  the  girls  in 
my  kingdom  would  go  to  prison  for  such  a  dowry:  how- 
ever, she  shall  have  the  pension;  but,  in  truth,  my  treas- 
ury is  exhausted.* 


346  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

"Then,  sire,M  returned  I,  <( borrow  of  your  friends.* 
"Come,  come,  let  us   finish  this  business;    I    will   give 
your  protdgfe  4000  louis." 

(<No,  I  cannot  agree, w  answered  I,  (<to  less  than  5000.  * 
The  king  promised  me  I  should  have  them;  and,  on 
the  following  day,  his  valet  Turpigny  brought  me  the 
order  for  the  pension,  and  a  bag,  in  which  I  found  only 
4000  louis.  This  piece  of  meanness  did  not  surprise  me, 
but  it  made  me  shrug  up  my  shoulders,  and  sent  me  to 
my  cabinet  to  take  the  sum  deficient  from  my  own  funds. 
With  this  dowry  my  poor  prottgte  soon  found  a  suitable 
husband  in  the  person  of  one  of  her  cousins,  for  whom  I 
procured  a  lucrative  post  under  government.  These 
worthy  people  have  since  well  repaid  me  by  their  grate- 
ful and  devoted  attachment  for  the  service  I  was  enabled 
to  render  them.  One  individual  of  their  family  was, 
however,  far  from  resembling  them  either  in  goodness  of 
heart  or  generosity  of  sentiment  —  I  allude  to  the  brother 
of  the  lady;  that  same  brother  who  formerly  supplied  his 
sister  with  his  clothes,  that  she  might  visit  the  king  un- 
suspected. Upon  the  incarceration  of  the  father  the  son 
succeeded  him  in  his  office  of  valet  de  chambre,  and  ac- 
quired considerable  credit  at  court;  yet,  although  in  the 
daily  habit  of  seeing  the  king,  he  neither  by  word  nor  deed 
sought  to  obtain  the  deliverance  of  either  his  parent  or 
sister.  On  the  contrary,  he  suffered  the  former  to  perish  in 
a  dungeon,  and  allowed  the  latter  to  languish  in  one  dur- 
ing more  than  seventeen  years,  and  in  all  probability  she 
would  have  ended  her  days  without  receiving  the  slight- 
est mark  of  his  recollection  of  his  unfortunate  relative. 
I  know  no  trait  of  base  selfishness  more  truly  revolting 
than  the  one  I  have  just  related. 

But  this  story  has  led  me  far  from  the  subject  I  was 
previously  commencing :  this  narrative,  which  I  never  call 
to  mind  without  a  feeling  of  pleasure,  has  led  me  away 
in  spite  of  myself.  Still  I  trust  that  my  narrative  has 
been  sufficiently  interesting  to  induce  you  to  pardon  the 
digression  it  has  occasioned,  and  now  I  will  resume  the 
thread  of  my  discourse. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

A  conspiracy  —  A  scheme  for  poisoning  madame  du  Barry  —  The  four 
bottles  —  Letter  to  the  due  d' Aiguillon  —  Advice  of  the  ministers 
—  Opinion  of  the  physicians  —  The  chancellor  and  lieutenant  of 
police  —  Resolution  of  the  council. 

HAVE  you  any  curiosity  to  learn  the  denouement  of  the 
story  I  was  telling  you  of  my  anonymous  correspond- 
ent ?  Read  what  follows,  then,  and  your  wishes 
shall  be  gratified :  that  is,  if  you  have  patience  to  hear  a 
rather  long  story;  for  I  cannot  promise  you  that  mine 
will  very  speedily  be  completed.  Let  me  see:  where  did 
I  leave  off?  Oh,  I  recollect. 

I  was  telling  you  that  madame  de  Mirepoix  urged  me 
to  repair,  as  I  was  requested,  to  the  Baths  of  Apollo.  I 
had  a  key  which  opened  all  the  park  gates;  we  entered 
the  park,  took  the  path  which  turns  off  to  the  left,  and 
after  having  walked  for  about  five  minutes,  found  our- 
selves opposite  the  person  we  were  in  search  of.  It  was 
a  female  of  from  thirty  to  forty  years  of  age,  of  diminu- 
tive stature,  dressed  after  the  fashion  of  the  bourgeoises 
of  the  day,  but  still  an  air  of  good  taste  was  evident 
through  the  simplicity  of  her  attire.  Her  countenance 
must  once  have  been  handsome,  if  one  might  judge  by 
the  beauty  of  her  eyes  and  mouth,  but  she  was  pale, 
withered  and  already  impressed  with  the  traces  of  a  pre- 
mature old  age.  But  her  beauties,  although  faded,  were 
still  animated  by  a  quick  and  ever-varying  expression 
of  a  keen  and  lively  wit. 

Whilst  I  made  these  hasty  remarks  the  stranger  saluted 
me,  and  afterwards  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix,  with  an 
ease  of  manner  which  perfectly  surprised  me.  Nor  did 
she  in  any  other  instance  betray  the  embarrassment  of  a 

(347) 


348  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE    VAUBERNIER 

person  who  finds  herself  for  the  first  time  in  the  presence 
of  persons  of  a  rank  superior  to  her  own. 

*  Madam,*  she  said,  addressing  herself  to  me,  "I  trust 
you  will  pardon  me  for  having  given  you  the  trouble  of 
coming  hither;  I  might  have  spared  it  you,  had  your 
people  permitted  me  to  see  you  when  I  called  at  your 
house  yesterday.* 

"Your  invitation,*  replied  I,  "was  so  pressingly  en- 
forced, that  I  confess  my  curiosity  has  been  most  keenly 
awakened.  * 

"I  will  immediately  satisfy  it,*  answered  she,  "but 
what  I  have  to  say  must  be  told  to  yourself  alone.* 

"  Well,  then,  *  said  the  mare'chale,  "  I  will  leave  you 
for  the  present:  I  am  going  to  admire  that  fine  group  of 
Girardon*;  and  so  saying,  she  quitted  the  walk  in  which 
I  was  standing. 

Directly  she  was  gone  the  stranger  said  to  me,  *  Madam, 
I  will  explain  myself  without  reserve  or  unnecessary 
prolixity;  I  beseech  of  you  to  listen  attentively  whilst 
I  tell  you,  in  the  first  place,  that  both  your  life  and 
that  of  the  king  is  in  imminent  danger.* 

<(  Heavens !  *  cried  I,   "  what  do  I  hear  ?  * 

"That  which  I  well  know  to  be  true,*  answered  the 
female,  with  a  firm  voice ;  "  I  repeat  that  your  life  and 
that  of  the  king  is  in  danger.* 

These  words,  pronounced  in  a  low,  solemn  voice,  froze 
me  with  terror;  my  limbs  tottered  under  me,  and  I  al- 
most sank  to  the  ground.  The  stranger  assisted  me  to 
a  bench,  offered  me  her  arm,  and  when  she  saw  me  a 
little  recovered,  she  continued, 

"  Yes,  madam,  a  conspiracy  is  afoot  against  yourself  and 
Louis  XV.  You  are  to  be  made  away  with  out  of  re- 
venge, and  Louis  XV.  is  to  suffer,  in  the  hopes  of  his 
death  effecting  a  change  in  the  present  face  of  affairs.* 

"  And  who,  *  inquired  I,  *  are  the  conspirators  ?  * 

"The  Jesuits  and  parliamentarians;  these  ancient  ri- 
vals, equally  persecuted  by  the  royal  government,  have 
determined  to  make  common  cause  against  their  mutual 
foe.  The  Jesuits  flatter  themselves  that  the  dauphin  in- 
herits the  kind  feeling*  entertained  by  his  father  for 


COMTESSE  DU  BARRY  349 

their  order,  and  the  parliamentarians  justly  reckon  upon 
the  friendly  disposition  of  the  young  prince  towards  the 
old  magistracy.  Both  parties  equally  flatter  themselves 
that  a  fresh  reign  would  bring  about  their  re-establish- 
ment, and  they  are  impatient  to  accelerate  so  desirable  an 
event:  the  conspiracy  is  directed  by  four  Jesuits  and  the 
same  number  of  the  ex-members  of  the  parliament  of 
Paris.  The  remainder  of  the  two  corporations  are  not 
initiated  in  the  secret  of  the  enterprise.  I  am  not  able 
at  present  to  give  you  the  names  of  the  eight  conspir- 
ators, the  person  from  whom  I  derive  my  information 
not  having  as  yet  confided  them  even  to  myself,  but  I 
trust  ere  long  to  obtain  such  a  mark  of  confidence." 

The  female  ceased  speaking,  and  I  remained  in  a  state 
of  doubt,  fear,  and  alarm,  impossible  to  describe.  Still 
one  thing  appeared  clear  to  me,  that  information  so  mys- 
teriously conveyed  was  not  deserving  .of  belief,  unless 
supported  by  more  corroborating  testimony.  My  un- 
known friend  evidently  divined  all  that  was  passing  in 
my  mind,  for  she  observed, 

<(  I  perceive  that  my  recital  appears  to  you  improbable ; 
one  particular  which  I  will  state  may  perhaps  overcome 
your  incredulity.  Are  you  not  in  the  habit,  madam,  of 
taking  every  evening  eau  sucrfe  mixed  with  a  large  pro- 
portion of  orange-flower  water  ? s 

<(I  am,®  replied  I. 

<(  This  day,"  continued  my  informant,  "you  will  receive 
four  bottles  of  orange-flower  water  contained  in  a  box, 
bearing  the  usual  appearances  of  having  come  from  the 
perfumers',  but  it  is  sent  by  other  hands,  and  the  liquor 
contained  in  the  flasks  is  mingled  with  a  deadly  poison — .  * 

These  last  words  made  me  tremble.  <(  You  must  com- 
plete your  kind  offices, }>  cried  I  to  my  visitor,  <(  by  bring- 
ing me  acquainted  with  the  person  from  whom  you  have 
derived  your  intelligence:  that  individual  must  be  ac- 
quainted with  the  whole  of  the  plot;  and,  believe  me,  I 
will  not  be  unmindful  of  either  of  you.* 

(<  Stay  one  instant, w  replied  the  lady,  without  evincing 
the  slightest  emotion;  <(the  man  who  was  my  informant 
is  assuredly  aware  of  the  names  of  those  concerned  in 


350  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

the  conspiracy,  but  he  has  charged  me  not  to  state  who 
he  is  but  upon  certain  conditions;  a  recommendation  I 
shall  most  certainly  attend  to.* 

<(Be  assured,*  interrupted  I,  "that  your  demands  shall 
be  acceded  to;  you  shall  yourself  fix  the  price  of  your 
entire  disclosure  of  every  fact  connected  with  the  busi- 
ness. * 

<(It  will  not  be  an  exorbitant  one,*  replied  the 
lady;  "merely  600,000  francs,  to  be  equally  divided  be- 
tween the  friend  you  desire  to  know  and  myself;  for 
this  sum,  which  is  not  a  very  large  one,  you  may  com- 
mand the  services  of  both  of  us.  One  word  more, 
madam,  and  I  am  gone.  Observe  a  strict  silence  upon 
all  I  have  told  you;  or,  if  you  must  have  a  counsellor 
in  such  perilous  circumstances,  confide  merely  in  some 
tried  friend;  say  the  due  d'Aiguillon  or  the  chancellor, 
or  both  should  you  deem  it  necessary;  but  have  a  care 
how  you  admit  a  third  to  a  participation  of  the  affair; 
you  could  scarcely  select  another  person  without  choosing 
one  already  corrupted  by  your  enemies.  It  is  said  that 
they  are  in  correspondence  with  even  those  persons 
immediately  about  the  person  of  the  king.  Adieu, 
madam;  I  will  see  you  at  your  own  apartments  the 
day  after  to-morrow,  when  I  trust  you  will  have  ready 
100,000  francs,  on  account  of  the  600,000  I  have  stipu- 
lated for.* 

So  saying,  she  curtsied  and  left  me,  overcome  with 
surprise.  A  thousand  fearful  ideas  pressed  upon  my 
brain,  and  my  heart  sickened  at  the  long  train  of 
gloomy  images  which  presented  themselves.  I  had  had 
sufficient  proofs  since  my  elevation  of  the  deadly 
hatred  borne  me  by  those  whom  my  good  fortune  had 
rendered  my  enemies:  yet,  hitherto,  my  strongest  appre- 
hensions had  never  been  directed  to  anything  more 
terrible  than  being  supplanted  in  the  favor  of  the 
king,  or  being  confined  in  my  chateau  du  Lucienne. 
The  horrible  ideas  of  murder,  poison,  or  assassination  by 
any  means,  had  never  presented  themselves  to  me.  All 
at  once  I  recollected  the  young  man  in  the  garden  of 
the  Tuileries;  his  predictions  of  my  future  greatness 


35' 

had  been  accomplished.  He  had  also  announced  to  me 
fearful  vicissitudes,  and  had  threatened  to  appear  to  me 
when  these  catastrophes  were  about  to  occur.  Doubt- 
less he  would  keep  his  word;  now  was  the  time  for 
so  doing,  and  I  timidly  glanced  around  as  I  caught  the 
sound  of  a  slight  rustle  among  the  branches,  fully  ex- 
pecting to  see  my  young  prophet;  but  the  figure  which 
met  my  eye  was  that  of  madame  de  Mirepoix,  who, 
tired  of  waiting,  had  come  to  rejoin  me. 

(<  What ! *  said  she,  w  are  you  alone  ?  I  did  not  observe 
your  visitor  leave  you.  Did  she  vanish  into  air  ?  * 

<(Very  possibly,*  answered  I. 

(<  So  then,*  replied  the  mare'chale,  (<she  proved  a  fairy, 
or  some  beneficent  gtnie,  after  all  ?  * 

(<If  she  were  a  spirit,*  said  I,  "it  certainly  was  not  to 
the  better  sort  she  belonged.* 

<(  Have  a  care, M  cried  the  mare'chale ;  <(  I  have  already 
formed  a  thousand  conjectures  as  to  what  this  woman 
has  been  telling.* 

<(And  all  your  suppositions,*  replied  I,  "would  fall 
short  of  the  reality.  Listen,  my  dear  mare'chale,*  added 
I,  rising,  and  taking  her  arm  to  proceed  homewards,  "  I 
have  been  strictly  prohibited  from  admitting  any  coun- 
sellor but  the  due  d'Aiguillon  and  the  chancellor;  still  I 
can  have  no  reserves  with  you,  who  I  know,  from  the 
regard  you  bear  both  to  the  king  and  myself,  will  advise 
me  to  the  best  of  your  power.* 

As  we  walked  towards  the  chateau,  I  explained  to  my 
companion  the  joint  conspiracy  of  the  Jesuits  and  ancient 
members  of  the  parliament  against  the  king's  life  and 
my  own.  When  I  had  ceased  speaking,  she  replied, 

(<A11  this  is  very  possible;  despair  may  conduct  the 
Jesuits  and  parliamentarians  to  the  greatest  extremities; 
but  still  this  mysterious  female  may  be  nothing  more 
than  an  impostor.  At  any  rate,  I  am  anxious  to  learn 
whether  the  box  she  described  has  been  left  at  your 
house;  if  so,  it  will  be  a  strong  corroboration,  if  not,  a 
convincing  proof  of  the  falsehood  of  what  she  asserts.* 

We  had  by  this  time  reached  the  bottom  of  the  stair- 
case which  conducted  to  my  apartments;  we  ascended 


352  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

the  stairs  rapidly,  and  the  first  person  I  met  in  the  ante- 
room was  Henriette. 

<(  Henriette, B  said  I,  (<  has  any  thing  been  brought  for 
me  during  my  absence  ? w 

(<  Nothing  except  a  box  of  orange-flower  water  from 
Michel  the  perfumer's,  which  I  presume  you  ordered, 
madam. w 

A  glance  of  mutual  surprise  and  consternation  passed 
between  the  mare'chale  and  myself.  We  entered  my 
chamber,  where  madame  de  Mirepoix  opened  the  fatal 
box;  it  contained  the  four  bottles  exactly  as  had  been 
described.  We  regarded  each  other  in  profound  silence, 
not  daring  to  communicate  our  reflections.  However,  it 
was  requisite  to  take  some  steps,  and,  catching  up  a  pen, 
I  hastily  wrote  the  following  billet  to  the  due  d'Aiguillon, 

(<  MONSIEUR  LE  DUG, —  Whatever  may  be  the  affairs  with  which  you 
are  at  present  occupied,  I  pray  of  you  to  throw  them  aside,  and 
hasten  to  me  instantly  upon  receipt  of  this.  Nothing  can  equal 
in  importance  the  subject  upon  which  I  wish  to  see  you ;  I  cannot 
now  explain  myself  fully,  but  prepare  for  news  of  the  most  horrible 
description,  and  it  refers  to  the  safety  and  preservation  of  the  most 
valuable  life  in  the  kingdom.  I  cannot  delay  time  by  writing  more; 
I  can  only  beseech  of  you  not  to  lose  one  moment  in  obeying  this 
summons.  Adieu;  fail  not  to  come  and  bring  me  back  this  note.* 

The  duke  hastened  to  me  full  of  terror  and  alarm. 

«  Your  letter  has  really  frightened  me, w  said  he ;  <(  what 
can  be  the  matter?  Surely  the  life  of  his  majesty  is 
not  in  danger  ?  w 

(<  Too  truly  is  it,  *  answered  I ;  (<  but  sit  down,  and  you 
shall  know  all  the  affair.  The  mare'chale  is  already  aware 
of  the  matter  and  need  not  withdraw.* 

The  duke  listened  with  extreme  attention  to  the  recital 
of  my  interview  in  the  grove  surrounding  the  Baths  of 
Apollo,  as  well  as  to  the  account  of  the  discourse  I  had 
held  there  with  the  strange  female.  I  endeavoured  to  re- 
late the  conversation  as  minutely  and  accurately  as  pos- 
sible, but  still  the  duke  sought  further  particulars.  He 
inquired  the  style  of  countenance,  dress,  manner,  and 
tone  of  voice  possessed  by  the  incognita.  One  might 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  353 

have  supposed,  by  the  closeness  of  his  questions,  that  he 
already  fancied  he  had  identified  this  mysterious  person- 
age: he  then  examined  the  box,  which  stood  on  the 
table,  and  remarked,  <(  This  is  a  very  serious  affair,  nor 
can  I  undertake  the  management  of  it  alone;  it  involves 
a  too  great  responsibility.  Spite  of  the  lady's  assertions, 
I  am  confident  the  fullest  confidence  might  be  placed  in 
all  the  ministers.  However,  I  will  first  have  a  conference 
with  M.  de  Saint-Florentin  and  the  chancellor,  in  whose 
presence  I  will  send  for  the  lieutenant  of  police ;  and  the 
contents  of  these  bottles  shall  be  immediately  analyzed.* 

The  duke,  without  quitting  me,  wrote  immediately  to 
his  two  colleagues  as  well  as  to  M.  de  Sartines,  request- 
ing this  latter  to  repair  to  my  apartment  without  delay. 
One  of  the  ministers  summoned  by  M.  d'Aiguillon  was 
not  at  that  moment  at  Versailles,  having  left  at  an  early 
hour  in  the  morning  for  Paris.  Neither  he  nor  M.  de 
Sartines  could  possibly  be  with  us  before  eight  o'clock  in 
the  evening;  it  was  therefore  agreed  to  adjourn  our  con- 
ference till  their  arrival.  Meanwhile  M.  d'Aiguillon,  the 
marechale,  and  myself,  remained  in  a  state  of  the  most 
cruel  anxiety.  The  duke  first  blamed  me  for  not  having 
caused  the  woman  to  be  arrested,  and  afterwards  he  con- 
fessed to  the  marechale,  that  perhaps  it  was  better  the 
conspiracy  should  be  allowed  time  to  ripen  into  maturity. 
During  this  time  the  liquid  contained  in  the  four  bottles 
was  being  decomposed:  M.  Quesnay,  first  physician, 
Messrs.  Thiebault  and  Varennes,  visiting  physicians,  M. 
de  la  Martiniere,  counsellor  of  state,  surgeon  to  his  maj- 
esty, as  well  as  Messrs.  Ducor  and  Prost,  apothecaries 
to  his  majesty,  had  been  collected  together  for  this  pur- 
pose' by  the  due  d'Aiguillon. 

These  gentlemen  came  to  report  the  termination  of 
their  experiments  at  the  very  moment  when  the  chan- 
cellor and  lieutenant  of  police  entered  the  room ;  the  due 
de  la  Vrilliere  had  preceded  them  by  about  five  minutes ; 
the  due  d'Aiguillon  requested  these  gentlemen  to  be 
seated.  The  doctors  Quesnay  and  la  Martiniere  were  in- 
troduced, and  desired  to  make  known  the  result  of  their 
operations.  My  newly-arrived  guests,  who  as  "yet  under- 
23 


354  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

stood  nothing  of  what  was  going  on,  were  struck  with 
astonishment  at  hearing  it  said,  that  the  four  bottles  of 
orange-flower  water  contained  a  considerable  proportion 
of  a  most  active  poison,  of  which  a  few  drops  would  be 
sufficient  to  cause  instantaneous  death.  Having  thus 
executed  their  commission,  the  medical  gentlemen  bowed 
and  retired. 

M.  d'Aiguillon  then  explained  to  my  wondering  friends 
the  horrible  affair  which  had  occasioned  their  being 
sent  for  so  hastily.  I  cannot  tell  you  what  effect  this 
disclosure  produced  on  M.  de  la  Vrilliere  or  M.  de 
Maupeou,  my  whole  attention  being  fixed  upon  M.  de 
Sartines.  You  may  suppose  that  a  lieutenant  of  police, 
particularly  one  who  piqued  himself  upon  knowing  every 
thing,  could  not  feel  very  much  at  his  ease,  when  each 
word  that  was  uttered  convicted  him  either  of  incapacity 
or  negligence.  His  brow  became  contracted,  he  hemmed, 
choked,  fidgeted  about,  and  appeared  as  though  he  would 
have  given  every  thing  in  the  world  for  liberty  to  justify 
himself,  but  etiquette  forbade  it,  and  he  was  only  per- 
mitted to  speak  after  the  secretaries  of  state  then  present, 
or  if  called  upon  by  either  of  them. 

When  M.  d'Aiguillon  had  ceased  speaking,  the  chancellor 
in  his  turn  took  up  the  conversation.  M.  de  Maupeou 
was  by  nature  cold  and  sarcastic,  delighting  in  annoying 
any  person;  but,  on  the  present  occasion,  the  ill-nature 
inherent  in  him  was  still  excited  by  the  decided  hatred 
he  bore  to  the  unfortunate  M.  de  Sartines.  He  began 
by  saying,  that  the  conspiracy  was  evident,  and  was 
easily  explained  by  the  state  of  exasperation  in  which 
the  Jesuits  and  parliamentarians  now  were;  both  orders 
looking  for  no  other  prospect  of  amendment  in  their 
condition  than  such  as  might  arise  from  some  sudden 
convulsion  of  the  kingdom.  He  expressed  his  opinion 
of  the  necessity  of  instituting  a  rigorous  inquiry  into 
the  conduct  of  these  two  bodies;  and  then,  turning  to 
M.  de  Sartines,  whose  cheek  grew  pale  at  the  move- 
ment, he  charged  him  to  lay  before  the  council  all  those 
particulars  which  he  must  necessarily  possess  as  head 
of  the  police,  either  respecting  the  present  plot,  or  re- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  355 

lating  to  any  of  the  ancient  members  of  parliament  or 
the  order  of  Jesuits. 

This  was  a  dagger  to  the  heart  of  M.  de  Sartines,  who 
in  vain  sought  to  frame  a  suitable  reply:  but  what 
could  he  say  ?  He  did  not  in  reality  possess  any  of 
the  information  for  which  he  had  received  credit,  and 
after  many  awkward  endeavours  at  explaining  himself, 
he  was  compelled  frankly  to  confess,  that  he  knew  not 
a  word  more  of  the  conspiracy  than  he  had  just  then 
heard. 

It  was  now  the  turn  of  M.  de  la  Vrilleire  to  speak. 
He  also  would  fain  have  attacked  the  unfortunate  lieu- 
tenant of  police;  but,  whether  M.  de  Maupeou  thought 
that  his  own  correction  had  been  sufficiently  strong,  or 
whether  he  begrudged  any  other  person  interfering  with 
his  vengeance  upon  his  personal  foe,  he  abruptly  inter- 
rupted the  tirade  of  M.  de  la  Vrilleire,  by  observing,  that 
a  conspiracy  conducted  by  only  eight  persons  might  very 
possibly  escape  the  eye  of  the  police ;  but,  furnished  as  it 
now  was  with  so  many  circumstances  and  particulars,  it 
was  impossible  that  the  plot  should  any  longer  defy  their 
vigilant  researches. 

M.  d'Aiguillon  fully  concurred  in  this  observation,  and 
M.  de  Sartines,  recovered  in  some  measure  from  his  first 
alarm,  promised  every  thing  they  could  desire ;  and  it  was 
finally  arranged  that  the  police  should  this  night  use  every 
precautionary  measure  in  Paris,  and  that  the  officers  of 
the  guard  should  receive  orders  to  redouble  their  zeal 
and  activity  in  watching  the  chateau;  and  that  when  the 
unknown  female  called  again  on  me,  she  should  be  con- 
ducted by  madame  de  Mirepoix  to  the  due  d'Aiguillon, 
who  would  interrogate  her  closely. 

These  measures  decided  on,  the  council  broke  up,  and  I 
went  to  receive  the  king,  who  was  this  evening  to  do  me 
the  favour  of  taking  his  supper  in  my  apartments. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

Conclusion  of  this  affair  —  A  letter  from  the  incognita  —  Her  exam- 
ination—  Arrest  of  Cabert  the  Swiss  —  He  dies  in  the  Bastille  of 
poison  —  Madame  Lorimer  is  arrested  and  poisoned  —  The  innocence 
of  the  Jesuits  acknowledged  —  Madame  de  Mirepoix  and  the 
100,000  francs  —  Forgetfulness  on  the  part  of  the  lieutenant  of 
police  —  A  visit  from  comte  Jean  —  Madame  de  Mirepoix. 

MDE  SARTINES  did  not  sleep  on  his  post,  but  his  re- 
searches were  fruitless;  and,  on  the  following 
day,  three  successive  messengers  came  to  an- 
nounce to  us  that  they  had  as  yet  made  no  discovery.  The 
day  passed  without  bringing  any  fresh  intelligence,  and 
our  anxiety  increased  daily.  At  length  arrived  the  period 
fixed  for  the  visit  of  the  incognita.  I  awaited  the  coming 
of  this  female  with  an  impatience  impossible  to  describe. 
About  mid-day  a  note  was  brought  me;  I  instantly  rec- 
ognized the  writing  as  that  of  my  mysterious  friend, 
and  hastily  breaking  the  seal,  read  as  follows: 

<(  MADAM, —  I  must  entreat  your  pardon  for  breaking  the  appoint- 
ment for  to-day,  imperative  duties  still  detain  me  in  Paris. 

<(  Since  our  last  interview  I  have  been  unceasingly  occupied  in  en- 
deavouring to  discover  the  names  of  the  eight  persons  of  whom  I 
spoke  to  you,  and,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  I  have  but  partially  succeeded. 
The  person  who  has  hitherto  furnished  me  with  my  information 
obstinately  refuses  to  state  who  are  the  parliamentarians  concerned 
in  the  conspiracy.  I  am,  however,  enabled  to  forward  you  the  names 
of  the  four  Jesuits,  with  some  few  particulars  relating  to  these  worthy 
fathers. 

<(The  Jesuits  in  question  are  Messrs.  Corbin,  Berthier,  Cerulti,  and 
Dumas;  the  first  of  whom  was  employed  in  the  education  of  the 
dauphin,  the  second  and  the  third  are  sufficiently  known;  as  for  the 
fourth,  he  is  a  bold  and  enterprising  Parisian,  capable  of  conceiving 
and  executing  the  most  daring  schemes.  Whilst  the  order  remained 
in  possession  of  power  he  had  no  opportunity  of  displaying  his  extraor- 
dinary talents,  and  consequently  he  obtained  but  a  trifling  reputa- 
(356) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  357 

tion;  but  since  its  banishment  he  has  become  its  firmest  support  and 
principal  hope.  All  the  treasures  of  the  brotherhood  are  at  his  dis- 
posal, and  I  learn,  that  the  day  before  yesterday  he  received  a  consid- 
erable sum  from  Lyons. 

<(This  intrepid  and  daring  spirit  is  the  very  soul  of  the  conspiracy; 
he  it  is  who  conceived  the  plan  and  set  the  whole  machine  in  action. 
It  would  be  effectually  extinguished  could  we  but  once  secure  him, 
but  this  is  by  no  means  an  easy  task ;  he  has  no  fixed  abode ;  never 
sleeps  two  nights  following  in  the  same  home;  one  day  he  may  be 
found  in  one  part  of  Paris  and  the  next  at  the  very  opposite  corner; 
he  changes  his  manner  of  dress  as  frequently  as  he  does  his  abodes. 

<(  I  shall  have  the  honour  of  seeing  you  to-morrow  or  the  day  after 
at  furthest.  Meanwhile  lay  aside  all  uneasiness  for  his  majesty's 
safety:  I  pledge  you  my  word  he  is  for  the  present  in  perfect  se- 
curity. The  execution  of  the  plot  is  still  deferred  for  the  want  of  a 
Da  miens  sufficiently  sanguinary  to  undertake  the  task. 

(( Deign,  madana,  to  accept  the  assurance  of  my  sincere  devotion, 
and  believe  that  I  will  neglect  no  opportunity  of  affording  you  proofs 
of  it  (< Yours,  madam,  etc.,  etc.w 

I  immediately  communicated  this  letter  to  the  due 
d'Aignillon,  who  convoked  a  fresh  meeting  of  the  per- 
sons who  had  been  present  on  the  preceding  day.  It 
was  at  first  deliberated  whether  or  not  to  arrest  the 
whole  body  of  Jesuits  then  in  Paris,  but  this,  although 
the  advice  of  M.  d'Aiguillon,  was  by  no  means  approved 
of  by  the  chancellor.  M.  de  Sartines  and  M.  de  la 
Vrilliere  were  for  carrying  the  idea  into  execution,  but  the 
objections  of  M.  de  Maupeou  were  too  powerful  to  be 
overruled,  and  the  scheme  was  for  the  present  aban- 
doned. The  chancellor  maintained  that  the  other  con- 
spirators, warned  of  their  own  danger  by  the  seizure  of 
their  friends,  would  either  escape  the  vengeance  of  the 
laws  by  flight  or  by  close  confinement  in  their  houses; 
he  greatly  dreaded  as  it  was,  that  his  foes,  the  parlia- 
mentarians, would  avoid  the  punishment  he  longed  to 
inflict  on  them.  Indeed,  in  his  estimation,  it  seemed  as 
though  every  measure  would  be  anticipated  so  long 
as  the  female,  who  seemed  so  intimately  acquainted  with 
their  design,  was  at  liberty;  and  this  last  opinion  was 
unanimously  concurred  in. 

All  the  delays  greatly  irritated  me,  and  rendered  my 
impatience  to  witness  the  termination  of  the  affair  greater 


358  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

than  it  had  ever  been.  The  stranger  had  promised  to 
make  her  appearance  on  the  following  day;  it  passed 
away,  however,  without  my  hearing  anything  of  her.  On 
the  day  following  she  came;  I  immediately  sent  to  ap- 
prize M.  d'Aiguillon,  who,  with  M.  de  la  Vrilliere  and 
the  chancellor,  entered  my  apartments  ere  the  lady  had 
had  time  to  commence  the  subject  upon  which  she  was 
there  to  speak.  This  unexpected  appearance  did  not 
seem  to  disconcert  her  in  the  least,  nor  did  her  sang-froid 
and  ordinary  assurance  in  any  degree  fail  her.  She  re- 
proached me  for  having  intrusted  the  secret  to  so  many 
persons,  but  her  reproof  was  uttered  without  bitterness, 
and  merely  as  if  she  feared  lest  my  indiscretion  might 
compromise  our  safety.  She  was  overwhelmed  with  ques- 
tions, and  the  chancellor  interrogated  her  with  the  keenest 
curiosity;  but  to  all  the  inquiries  put  to  her  she  replied 
with  a  readiness  and  candour  which  surprised  the  whole 
party.  She  was  desired  to  give  the  names  of  those  en- 
'  gaged  in  the  conspiracy,  as  well  as  of  him  who  first  in- 
formed her  of  it.  She  answered  that  her  own  name  was 
Lorimer,  that  she  was  a  widow  living  upon  her  own 
property.  As  for  the  man,  her  informant,  he  was  a 
Swiss,  named  Cabert,  of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  and 
had  long  been  her  intimate  friend:  however,  the  embar- 
rassed tone  with  which  she  pronounced  these  last  words 
left  room  for  the  suspicion,  that  he  had  been  something 
dearer  to  her  than  a  friend.  She  was  then  urged  to  give  up 
the  names  of  the  four  parliamentarians,  but  she  protested 
that  she  had  not  yet  been  able  to  prevail  on  Cabert  to 
confide  them  to  her,  that  she  was  compelled  to  use  the 
utmost  circumspection  in  her  attempts  at  discovering  the 
facts  already  disclosed,  but  flattered  herself  she  should 
yet  succeed  in  gaining  a  full  and  unreserved  disclosure. 
M.  de  Maupeou  encouraged  her,  by  every  possible  argu- 
ment, to  neglect  no  means  of  arriving  at  so  important  a 
discovery. 

The  examination  over,  and  the  100,000  francs  she  had 
demanded  given  to  her,  she  retired,  but  followed  at  a 
distance  by  a  number  of  spies,  who  were  commissioned 
to  watch  her  slightest  movement. 


COMTESSE   DU    BARRY  359 

Cabert,  the  Swiss,  was  arrested  in  a  furnished  lodging 
he  occupied  in  rue  Saint  Roch,  and  sent  without  delay 
to  Versailles,  where,  as  before,  M.  d'Aiguillon  with  his 
two  colleagues  waited  in  my  study  to  receive  and  ques- 
tion the  prisoner.  Cabert  was  a  young  and  handsome 
man,  whose  countenance  bore  evident  marks  of1  a  dis- 
solute and  profligate  life.  He  confessed,  without  any 
difficulty,  that  his  only  means  of  gaining  a  livelihood 
were  derived  from  the  generosity  of  a  female  friend, 
but  when  he  was  pressed  upon  the  subject  of  the  con- 
spiracy, he  no  longer  replied  with  the  same  candour, 
but  merely  answered  in  short  and  impatient  negatives 
the  many  questions  put  to  him,  accompanied  with  fer- 
vent protestations  of  innocence;  adding,  that  implacable 
enemies  had  fabricated  the  whole  story,  only  that  they 
might  have  an  opportunity  of  wreaking  their  vengeance, 
by  implicating  him  in  it. 

(<  Accuse  not  your  enemies,"  cried  I,  for  the  first 
time  mingling  in  the  conversation,  (<but  rather  blame 
your  benefactress;  it  is  madame  Lorimer  who  has  de- 
nounced you,  and  far  from  intending  to  harm  you  by 
so  doing,  she  purposes  dividing  with  you  the  100,000 
livres  which  are  to  reward  her  disclosures.* 

I  easily  found,  by  the  frowning  looks  directed  towards 
me  by  the  three  gentlemen  present,  that  I  had  been 
guilty  of  great  imprudence  in  saying  so  much;  but  Ca- 
bert, wringing  his  hands,  uttered,  with  the  most  despair- 
ing accent, 

*  I  am  lost !  and  most  horribly  has  the  unfortunate 
woman  avenged  herself.  * 

w  What  would  you  insinuate  ?  w 

"That  I  am  the  victim  of  an  enraged  woman,"  re- 
plied he. 

He  afterwards  explained,  that  he  had  been  the  lover  of 
madame  Lorimer,  but  had  become  wearied  of  her,  and 
left  her  in  consequence;  that  she  had  violently  resented 
this  conduct;  and,  after  having  in  vain  sought  to  move 
him  by  prayers  and  supplications,  had  tried  the  most  hor- 
rible threats  and  menaces.  <(  I  ought  not  indeed, w  con- 
tinued he,  (<  to  have  despised  these  threats,  for  well  I  knew 


360  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

the  fiendlike  malice  of  the  wretched  creature,  and  dearly 
do  I  pay  for  my  imprudence,  by  falling  into  the  pit  she 
has  dug  for  me.* 

In  vain  we  endeavoured  to  induce  him  to  hold  a  differ- 
ent language.  He  persisted  with  determined  obstinacy  in 
his  first  statement;  continually  protesting  his  own  inno- 
cence, and  loading  the  author  of  his  woes  with  bitter  im- 
precations. It  was  deemed  impossible  to  allow  this  man 
to  go  at  large;  accordingly  M.  de  la  Vrilliere  issued  a 
lettre  de  cachet,  which  sent  him  that  night  to  seek  a  lodg- 
ing in  the  Bastille.  It  was  afterwards  deemed  advisable 
to  put  him  to  the  torture,  but  the  agonies  of  the  rack 
wrung  from  him  no  deviation  from,  or  contradiction  of, 
what  he  had  previously  alleged. 

The  affair  had  now  become  mysterious  and  inexplicable. 
However,  a  speedy  termination  was  most  imperatively 
called  for;  if  it  were  permitted  to  become  generally 
known,  it  could  not  fail  of  reaching  the  ears  of  the  king, 
whose  health  was  daily  declining;  and  M.  de  Quesnay  had 
assured  us,  that  in  his  present  languid  state,  the  shock 
produced  by  news  so  alarming,  might  cause  his  instanta- 
neous death. 

Whilst  we  remained  in  uncertainty  as  to  our  mode  of 
proceeding  in  the  business,  Cabert,  the  Swiss,  three  days 
after  his  admission  into  the  Bastille,  expired  in  the  most 
violent  convulsions.  His  body  was  opened,  but  no  trace 
of  poison  could  be  discovered :  our  suspicions  were  however 
awakened,  and  what  followed  confirmed  them. 

Madame  Lorimer  was  arrested.  She  protested  that  she 
had  been  actuated  by  no  feelings  of  enmity  against  her 
unfortunate  lover,  whom  she  had  certainly  reproached 
for  having  expended  the  money  she  furnished  him  with 
in  the  society  of  other  females,  and  to  the  anger  which 
arose  between  herself  and  Cabert  on  the  occasion  could 
she  alone  ascribe  his  infamous  calumnies  respecting  her; 
that,  for  her  own  part,  she  had  never  ceased  to  love  him, 
and,  as  far  as  she  knew,  that  feeling  was  reciprocal;  and, 
in  betraying  the  conspiracy,  her  principal  desire,  next  to 
the  anxious  hope  of  preserving  the  king,  was  to  make 
the  fortune  of  Cabert.  She  was  confined  in  the  Bastille, 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  361 

but  she  did  not  long  remain  within  its  walls;  for  at  the 
end  of  a  fortnight  she  died  of  an  inflammatory  disease. 
Her  death  was  marked  by  no  convulsions,  but  the  traces 
of  poison  were  evident. 

These  two  violent  deaths  occurring  so  immediately  one 
after  another  (as  not  the  slightest  doubt  existed  that 
Cabert  had  likewise  died  of  poison)  threw  the  ministers 
into  a  sad  state  of  perplexity.  But  to  whom  could  they 
impute  the  double  crime  unless  to  some  accomplice,  who 
dreaded  what  the  unhappy  prisoners  might  be  tempted 
to  reveal.  Yet  the  conduct  of  the  Jesuitical  priests 
stated  by  madame  Lorimer  to  be  the  principal  ring- 
leaders in  the  plot,  although  exposed  to  the  most  rigorous 
scrutiny,  offered  not  the  slightest  grounds  for  suspicion. 
Neither  did  their  letters  (which  were  all  intercepted  at 
the  various  post-houses)  give  any  indication  of  a  treason- 
able correspondence. 

M.  de  Sartines  caused  the  private  papers  of  the  sus- 
pected parties  to  be  opened  during  their  owners'  absence, 
without  discovering  anything  which  could  compromise 
their  character.  I  am  speaking,  however,  of  the  fathers 
Corbin,  Berthier,  and  Cerulti,  for  all  our  efforts  could 
not  trace  father  Dumas  throughout  all  Paris.  Nor  was 
the  innocence  of  the  parliamentarians  less  evident;  they 
vented  their  hatred  against  the  ministry,  and  particularly 
against  M.  de  Maupeou,  in  pamphlets,  couplets,  and 
epigrams,  both  in  French  and  Latin,  but  they  had  no 
idea  of  conspiracies  or  plots. 

And  thus  terminated  an  affair,  which  had  caused  so 
much  alarm,  and  which  continued  for  a  considerable 
period  to  engage  the  attention  of  ministers.  How  was 
the  mystery  to  be  cleared  up  ?  The  poisoned  orange- 
flower  water,  and  the  sudden  deaths  of  the  two  prisoners, 
were  facts  difficult  to  reconcile  with  the  no  less  undeniable 
innocence  of  the  three  accused  Jesuits.  The  whole  busi- 
ness was  to  me  an  incomprehensible  mass  of  confusion, 
in  which  incidents  the  most  horrible  were  mingled.  At 
last  we  agreed  that  the  best  and  only  thing  to  be  done 
was  to  consign  the  affair  to  oblivion;  but  there  were 
circumstances  which  did  not  so  easily  depart  from  the 


362  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

recollection  of  my  excellent  friend,  the  mare'chale  de 
Mirepoix.  <(  My  dear  soul, "  said  she  to  me  one  day,  <(  have 
you  ever  inquired  what  became  of  the  100,000  livres 
given  to  madame  Lorimer?  she  had  no  time  to  employ 
them  in  any  way  before  her  imprisonment  in  the  Bastille. 
You  ought,  to  inquire  into  what  hands  they  have  fallen.  * 

I  fully  comprehended  the  drift  of  this  question,  which 
I  put  to  M.  de.  Sartines  the  first  time  I  saw  him. 

"Bless  me,"  exclaimed  he,  <(you  remind  me  that  these 
100,000  livres  have  been  lying  in  a  drawer  in  my  office. 
But  I  have  such  a  terrible  memory." 

<(  Happily, "  replied  I,  <(  I  have  a  friend  whose  memory 
is  as  good  as  yours  seems  defective  upon  such  occasions. 
It  will  not  be  wise  to  permit  such  a  sum  to  remain  use- 
lessly in  your  office:  at  the  same  time  I  need  not  point 
out  that  you,  by  your  conduct  in  the  late  affair,  have  by 
no  means  earned  a  right  to  them." 

He  attempted  to  justify  himself ;  but,  interrupting  him, 
I  exclaimed,  (<  My  good  friend,  you  have  set  up  a  repu- 
tation of  your  own  creating  and  inventing;  and  well  it 
is  you  took  the  office  upon  yourself  for  no  one  else  would 
have  done  it  for  you;  but  you  perceive  how  frail  have 
been  its  foundations;  for  the  moment  you  are  compelled 
to  stand  upon  your  own  resources  you  faint,  and  are 
easily  overcome." 

He  endeavoured  to  make  a  joke  of  the  affair,  but  indeed 
it  seemed  to  accord  as  ill  with  his  natural  inclination 
as  did  the  restitution  of  the  100,000  livres.  However,  he 
brought  them  to  me  the  following  day,  and  as  I  was  ex- 
pecting the  arrival  of  madame  de  Mirepoix,  I  placed  them 
in  a  porcelain  vase  which  stood  upon  my  chimney-piece. 
Unfortunately  for  the  mare'chale,  comte  Jean  presented 
himself  before  she  did.  He  came  to  inform  me,  that  my 
husband  (of  whose  quitting  Toulouse  I  had  forgotten  to 
tell  you)  had  again  arrived  in  Paris.  I  did  not  disguise 
the  vexation  which  this  piece  of  intelligence  excited  in  me. 

*And  wherefore  has  comte  Guillaume  returned  to 
Paris?"  inquired  I,  angrily. 

w  Because  he  is  afraid. " 

w Afraid  of  what?"  replied  I. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  363 

<(  Of  being  murdered,8  answered  comte  Jean:  "it  is  a 
most  horrible  and  authentic  story.  Imagine  to  yourself 
the  dangers  of  his  situation:  some  brigands,  who  have  a 
design  on  his  life,  have  written  him  an  anonymous  billet, 
in  which  they  protest  they  will  certainly  murder  him,  un- 
less he  deposits  50,000  livres  in  a  certain  place.  You 
may  suppose  his  terror;  money  he  had  none,  neither  was 
his  credit  sufficiently  good  to  enable  him  to  borrow  any. 
As  a  last  and  only  chance,  he  threw  himself  into  a  car- 
riage, and  hastened,  tremblingly,  to  implore  your  assist- 
ance. w 

(<And  I  am  quite  certain  you  will  not  withhold  yours 
from  him,*  answered  I. 

<(  You  are  perfectly  right,*  cried  he,  (<but  unfortunately 
just  now  I  have  not  a  single  crown  I  can  call  my  own; 
so  that  it  rests  with  you  alone,  my  dearest  sister,  to  save 
the  life  of  this  hapless  comte  du  Barry.-* 

<(I  am  extremely  distressed,  my  dear  brother-in-law,8 
replied  I,  <(that  I  am  just  as  poor,  and  as  unable  to 
afford  the  necessary  aid  as  yourself;  my  purse  is  quite 
empty.  * 

(<  Faith,  my  dear  sister-in-law,  I  am  not  surprised  at 
that  if  you  convert  a  china  vase  into  a  receptacle  for 
your  bank  notes.* 

Saying  this,  he  drew  a  bundle  of  notes  from  the 
hiding-place  in  which  I  had  deposited  them.  <(  Do  you 
know, *  continued  comte  Jean,  <(  I  really  think  we  shall 
find  money  enough  here.*  He  began  to  count  them; 
and  when  he  had  finished  he  said,  (<  My  dear  sister, 
neither  your  husband  nor  myself  wish  to  importune 
you,  or  put  you  to  any  inconvenience,  therefore  you 
shall  merely  oblige  him  with  the  loan  of  these  50,000 
livres  to  extricate  him  from  his  present  peril;  they 
shall  be  faithfully  and  quickly  restored  to  you,  and  a 
note  of  hand  given  you  for  that  purpose  if  you  de- 
sire it.  *  So  saying,  he  divided  the  money  into  two  parts, 
replaced  one  in  the  vase,  and  pocketed  the  other. 

I  was  very  indignant  at  the  cool  impudence  with 
which  this  was  done,  and  my  patience  had  well  nigh 
forsaken  me:  however,  I  restrained  myself;  and  I  was 


364  MEMOIRS   OP   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

happy  enough  that  I  could  so  far  conquer  myself.  My 
reproaches  would  not  have  induced  comte  Jean  to  give 
me  back  my  money,  and  would  only  have  roused  his 
violence ;  which,  when  once  excited,  found  vent  in  language 
so  vehement  and  energetic,  that  I  did  not  desire  to 
hear  any  more  of  it  than  I  could  help.  At  these  mo- 
ments he  selected  not  the  politest  expressions,  but  those 
which  were  the  strongest :  and  besides,  such  was  the  un- 
governable nature  of  comte  Jean's  temper,  that  once 
roused,  he  would  have  treated  the  king  himself  with  as 
little  consideration  as  he  did  me.  Still,  he  never  de- 
liberately insulted  me,  nor  did  he  compose  those  in- 
sulting verses  respecting  me,  which  were  printed  as  his, 
in  (< Les  Anecdotes  sur  Madame  du  Barry.*  This  would 
have  been  an  indignity  I  would  quickly  have  caused 
him  to  repent  having  offered. 

"Well,*  inquired  I,  "are  you  very  glad  to  see  your 
brother  in  Paris  ?  * 

<(  No,  'pon  my  soul !  *  returned  he ;  <(  but  since  he  is 
here,  we  must  do  the  best  we  can  with  him ;  he  was  very 
anxious  to  see  his  sister-in-law  and  niece.  He  says  the 
former  is  ugly  as  sin,  and  the  latter  almost  as  handsome 
as  you.* 

<(Very  gallant,*  replied  I;  "but  tell  me,  comte  Jean, 
does  this  elegant  compliment  proceed  from  my  husband 
or  yourself  ?  * 

We  were  just  then  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  the 
mare'chale,  and  comte  Jean  retired. 

<(  Well,  my  dear,  *  she  began,  "  have  you  seen  M.  de 
Sartines,  and  did  you  speak  to  him  respecting  those 
100,000  livres?* 

<(Oh,  yes,*  replied  I,  "he  gave  them  back  to  me;  but 
I  have  already  had  half  of  them  stolen  from  me.* 

"By  comte  Jean,  I'll  engage,*  cried  she.  "Upon  my 
word,  that  man  is  a  perfect  spendthrift,  a  prodigal;  who, 
if  you  do  not  take  great  care,  will  certainly  ruin  you. 
And  what  will  you  do  with  the  remaining  50,000  livres, 
my  dear  friend ;  where  will  you  place  them  ?  * 

"In  your  hands,  my  dear  mare'chale;  'tis  his  majesty's 
command.* 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  365 

(<  To  that  command, B  answered  she,  (<  I  must  perforce 
submit " ;  and,  taking  the  bundle  of  notes,  she  continued, 
"Assure  his  majesty  that  it  will  ever  be  my  greatest 
pride  and  pleasure  to  obey  his  slightest  wish.  My  respect 
for  his  orders  can  only  be  equalled  by  my  tender  friend- 
ship for  her  who  is  the  bearer  of  the  royal  mandate." 
Then,  deliberately  putting  the  money  in  her  pocket,  she 
exclaimed,  ®You  must  own  that  comte  Jean  is  a  great 
rogue.  * 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

My  alarms  —  An  Heve  of  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs  —  Comte  Jean  en- 
deavours to  direct  the  king's  ideas  —  A  supper  at  Trianon  —  Table 
talk  —  The  king  is  seized  with  illness  —  His  conversation  with  me 
—  The  joiner's  daughter  and  the  small-pox  —  My  despair  —  Conduct 
of  La  Martiniere  the  surgeon. 

I  HAD  occasionally  some  unaccountable  whims  and  ca- 
prices. Among  other  follies  I  took  it  into  my  head 
to  become  jealous  of  the  duchesse  de  Cosse",  under 
the  idea  that  the  duke  would  return  to  her,  and  that  I 
should  no  longer  possess  his  affections.  Now  the  cause 
of  this  extravagant  conduct  was  the  firmness  with  which 
madame  de  Cosse"  refused  all  overtures  to  visit  me,  and 
I  had  really  become  so  spoiled  and  petted,  that  I  could 
not  be  brought  to  understand  the  reasonableness  of  the 
duchesse  de  Coss6  refusing  to  sanction  her  rival  by  her 
presence. 

You  may  perceive  that  I  had  not  carried  my  heroic 
projects  with  regard  to  madame  de  Cosse"  into  execution. 
Upon  these  occasions,  the  person  most  to  be  pitied  was 
the  duke,  whom  I  made  answerable  for  the  dignified  and 
virtuous  conduct  of  his  wife.  My  injustice  drove  him 
nearly  to  despair,  and  he  used  every  kind  and  sensible 
argument  to  convince  me  of  my  error,  as  though  it  had 
been  possible  for  one  so  headstrong  and  misguided  as 
myself  to  listen  to  or  comprehend  the  language  of  reason. 
\  replied  to  his  tender  and  beseeching  epistles  by  every 
cutting  and  mortifying  remark;  in  a  word,  all  common 
sense  appeared  to  have  forsaken  me.  Our  quarrel  was 
strongly  suspected  by  part  of  the  court ;  but  the  extreme 
prudence  and  forbearance  of  M.  de  Cosse"  prevented  their 
suppositions  from  ever  obtaining  any  confirmation.  But 
(366) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  367 

this  was  not  the  only  subject  I  had  for  annoyance.  On 
the  one  hand,  my  emissaries  informed  me  that  the  king 
still  continued  to  visit  the  baroness  de  New — k,  although 
with  every  appearance  of  caution  and  mystery,  by  the  as- 
sistance and  connivance  of  the  due  de  Duras,  who  had 
given  me  his  solemn  promise  never  again  to  meddle  with 
the  affair.  The  gouvernante  of  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs  fur- 
nished me  likewise  with  a  long  account  of  the  many 
visits  paid  by  his  majesty  to  her  establishment.  The  fact 
was,  the  king  could  not  be  satisfied  without  a  continual 
variety,  and  his  passion,  which  ultimately  destroyed  him, 
appeared  to  have  come  on  only  as  he  advanced  in  years. 

All  these  things  created  in  my  mind  an  extreme 
agitation  and  an  alarm,  and,  improbable  as  the  thing  ap- 
peared even  to  myself,  there  were  moments  when  I  trem- 
bled lest  I  should  be  supplanted  either  by  the  baroness 
or  some  fresh  object  of  the  king's  caprice;  and  again  a 
cold  dread  stole  over  me  as  I  anticipated  the  probability 
of  the  health  of  Louis  XV.  falling  a  sacrifice  to  the 
irregularity  of  his  life.  It  was  well  known  throughout 
the  chateau,  that  La  Martiniere,  the  king's  surgeon,  had 
strongly  recommended  a  very  temperate  course  of  life,  as 
essentially  necessary  to  recruit  his  constitution,  wasted  by 
so  many  excesses,  and  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  recom- 
mend his  no  longer  having  a  mistress;  this  the  courtiers 
construed  into  a  prohibition  against  his  possessing  a 
friend  of  any  other  sex  than  his  own;  for  my  own  part, 
I  experienced  very  slight  apprehensions  of  being  dis- 
missed, for  I  well  knew  that  Louis  XV.  reckoned  too 
much  on  my  society  to  permit  my  leaving  the  court, 
and  if  one,  the  more  tender,  part  of  our  union  were  dis- 
solved, etiquette  could  no  longer  object  to  my  presence. 
Still  the  advice  of  La  Martiniere  was  far  from  giving 
me  a  reason  for  congratulation;  but  these  minor  griev- 
ances were  soon  to  be  swallowed  up  in  one  fatal  catas- 
trophe, by  which  the  honours  and  pleasures  of  Versailles 
were  for  ever  torn  from  me. 

The  madame  of  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs,  fearing  that  some 
of  the  subordinate  members  of  that  establishment  might 
bring  me  intimation  of  what  was  going  on  there  without 


368  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

her  cognizance,  came  one  day  to  apprize  me  that  his 
majesty  had  fallen  desperately  in  love  with  a  young 
orphan  of  high  birth,  whom  chance  had  conducted  within 
the  walls  of  her  harem;  that  to  an  extraordinary  share  of 
beauty,  Julie  (for  that  was  the  name  of  my  rival)  united 
the  most  insatiate  ambition;  her  aims  were  directed  to 
reducing  the  king  into  a  state  of  the  most  absolute  bond- 
age, "and  he,w  said  madame,  "bids  fair  to  become  all 
that  the  designing  girl  would  have  him.8 

Julie  feigned  the  most  violent  love  for  her  royal  ad- 
mirer, nay  she  did  not  hesitate  to  carry  her  language 
and  caresses  far  beyond  the  strict  rules  of  decency;  her 
manners  were  those  of  one  accustomed  to  the  most 
polished  society,  whilst  her  expressions  were  peculiarly 
adapted  to  please  one  who,  like  the  king,  had  a  peculiar 
relish  for  every  thing  that  was  indecent  or  incorrect. 
His  majesty  either  visited  her  daily  or  sent  for  her  to 
the  chateau.  I  heard  likewise  from  M.  d'Aiguillon,  that 
the  king  had  recently  given  orders  that  the  three  uncles 
and  two  brothers  of  Julie  should  be  raised  by  rapid  pro- 
motion to  the  highest  military  rank;  at  the  same  time 
the  grand  almoner  informed  me  he  had  received  his  maj- 
esty's express  command  to  appoint  a  cousin  of  the 
young  lady  to  the  first  vacant  bishopric. 

These  various  reports  threw  me  into  a  train  of  painful 
and  uneasy  reflections.  Louis  XV.  had  never  before  be- 
stowed such  marks  of  favour  upon  any  ttive  of  the  Parc- 
aux-Cerfs,  and  the  intrigue  had  attained  this  height  with 
the  most  inconceivable  rapidity.  Chamilly  interrupted 
my  meditations,  by  presenting  himself  with  an  account 
of  his  having  been  commissioned  by  his  majesty  to  cause 
a  most  splendid  suit  of  diamonds  to  be  prepared  for 
mademoiselle  Julie,  the  king  not  considering  any  jewels 
of  Paris  worthy  her  acceptance.  By  way  of  a  finish 
to  all  this,  I  learned  that  two  ladies,  one  of  whom  was 
a  duchess,  had  openly  boasted  at  Versailles  of  their  re- 
lationship to  Julie.  This  was  a  more  decided  corroborative 
than  all  the  rest.  Courtiers  of  either  sex  are  skilful 
judges  of  the  shiftings  of  the  wind  of  court  favour,  and 
I  deemed  it  high  time  to  summon  my  brother-in-law  to 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  369 

my   assistance,  as   well   as   to  urge  him  to  exert  his   ut- 
most energies  to  support  my  tottering  power. 

My  communication  tormented  comte  Jean  as  much  as 
it  did  me;  he  proposed  several  means  of  combating  this 
rising  inclination  on  the  part  of  Louis  XV.  I  assented 
to  whatever  he  suggested,  and  we  set  to  work  with  an 
eagerness,  increased  on  my  part  by  a  species  of  gloomy 
presentiment,  which  subsequent  events  but  too  fatally 
confirmed.  The  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix,  who,  from  being 
on  good  terms  with  every  person,  was  sure  to  be  aware 
of  all  that  was  going  on,  spoke  to  me  also  of  this  rival 
who  was  springing  up  in  obscurity  and  retirement;  and 
it  was  from  the  same  source  I  learned  what  I  have  told 
you  of  the  two  ladies  of  the  court.  She  advised  me  not 
to  abandon  myself  to  a  blind  confidence,  and  this  opinion 
was  strengthened  when  I  related  all  I  had  gathered  upon 
the  subject. 

(<  You  may  justly  apprehend, *  said  she,  <(  that  Julie  will 
instil  some  of  her  bold  and  fearless  nature  into  the  king, 
and  should  she  presume  to  put  herself  in  competition 
with  you,  victory  would  in  all  probability  incline  to  the 
side  of  the  last  comer * ;  and  I  felt  but  too  truly  that  the 
mare'chale  spoke  with  truth. 

A  few  days  after  this,  the  king  being  alone  with  me, 
comte  Jean  entered.  After  the  usual  salutations,  he  ex- 
claimed, (<  I  have  just  seen  a  most  lovely  creature. * 

(<  Who  is  she  ? *  inquired  his  majesty,  hastily. 

(<  No  high-born  dame, *  answered  comte  Jean,  <(  but  the 
daughter  of  a  cabinet-maker  at  Versailles;  I  think  I 
never  beheld  such  matchless  beauty.* 

(<  Always  excepting  present  company, *  replied  the  king. 

"Assuredly,*  rejoined  my  brother-in-law,  <(but,  sire, 
the  beauteous  object  of  whom  I  speak  is  a  nymph  in 
grace,  a  sylph  in  airy  lightness,  and  an  angel  in  feature.", 

(<  Comte  Jean  seems  deeply  smitten  indeed,  madam/' 
exclaimed  Louis  XV.,  turning  towards  me. 

(<  Not  I  indeed,  *  replied  nry  brother-in-law,  <(  my  love- 
making  days  are  over.* 

<(  Oh !  oh  !*    cried  the  king,  smiling,   ^fructus  belli.  * 

"What  does  your  majesty  say?*  inquired  I. 
34 


370  MEMOIRS  OP  JEANNE  VAUBER.NIER 

<(  Nay,  let  the  comte  explain, "  cried  Louis  XV. 

<(  The  king  observed,  my  dear  sister,  *  answered  comte 
Jean,  (<  that  ladies  —  but,  in  fact,  I  can  neither  explain 
the  observation,  nor  was  it  intended  for  you  —  so  let 
it  rest" 

He  continued  for  some  time  to  jest  with  comte  Jean 
upon  his  supposed  passion  for  the  fair  daughter  of  the 
cabinet-maker;  and  the  king,  whilst  affecting  the  utmost 
indifference,  took  every  pains  to  obtain  the  fullest  par- 
ticulars as  to  where  this  peerless  beauty  might  be  found. 

When  my  brother-in-law  and  myself  were  alone,  he 
said  to  me,  <(  I  played  my  part  famously,  did  I  not  ?  How 
eagerly  the  bait  was  swallowed ! " 

<(  Explain  yourself, "  said  I. 

w  My  good  sister,  what  I  have  said  respecting  this  per- 
fection of  loveliness  is  no  fiction,  neither  have  I  at  all 
exaggerated  either  her  perfections  or  her  beauty,  and 
I  trust  by  her  aid  we  shall  obliterate  from  the  king's 
mind  every  recollection  of  the  syren  of  the  Parc-aux- 
Cerfs* 

"Heaven  grant  it,*  exclaimed  I. 

<(  My  dear  sister,"  replied  comte  Jean,  (<  heaven  has 
nothing  to  do  with  such  things." 

Alas!  he  was  mistaken,  and  Providence  only  employed 
the  present  occasion  as  a  means  of  causing  us  to  be  pre- 
cipitated into  the  very  abyss  of  ruin  we  had  dug  for  others. 
On  the  following  morning,  Chamilly  came  to  me  to  inquire 
whether  it  was  my  pleasure  that  the  present  scheme  should 
be  carried  into  execution." 

"Yes,  yes,"  answered  I  eagerly,  wby  all  means,  the 
more  we  direct  the  inclinations  of  the  king  for  the  present, 
the  better  for  him  and  for  us  likewise." 

Armed  with  my  consent,  Chamilly  dispatched  to  the 
unhappy  girl  that  madame,  whose  skill  in  such  delicate 
commissions  had  never  been  known  to  fail.  Not  that 
in  the  present  instance  any  great  bribes  were  requisite, 
but  it  was  necessary  to  employ  some  agent  whose  specious 
reasoning  and  oily  tongue  should  have  power  to  vanquish 
the  virtuous  reluctance  of  the  victim  herself,  as  well  as 
to  obtain  a  promise  of  strict  silence  from  her  family 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  371 

They  were  soon  induced  to  listen  to  their  artful  temptress; 
and  the  daughter,  dazzled  by  the  glittering  prospect  held 
out  to  her,  was  induced  to  accompany  madame  back  to 
Trianon,  where  the  king  was  to  sup,  in  company  with 
the  dues  d'Aiguillon  and  de  Richelieu,  the  prince  de 
Soubise,  the  dues  de  Cosse*,  de  Duras,  and  de  Noailles, 
mesdames  de  Mirepoix,  de  Forcalquier,  de  Flaracourt,  and 
myself;  my  brother-in-law  and  Chon  were  also  of  the 
party,  although  not  among  the  number  of  those  who  sat 
down  to  supper.  Their  presence  was  merely  to  keep  up 
my  spirits,  and  with  a  view  to  divert  me  from  dwelling 
on  the  presumed  infidelity  of  the  king. 

We  had  promised  ourselves  a  most  delightful  evening, 
and  had  all  come  with  the  expectation  of  finding  consid- 
erable amusement  in  watching  the  countenances  and  con- 
duct of  those  who  were  not  aware  of  the  real  state  of 
the  game,  whilst  such  as  were  admitted  into  my  entire 
confidence,  were  sanguine  in  their  hopes  and  expectations 
of  employing  the  simple  beauty  of  the  maiden  of  Ver- 
sailles to  crush  the  aspiring  views  of  my  haughty  rival 
of  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs.  This  was,  indeed,  the  point  at 
which  I  aimed,  and  my  further  intention  was  to  request 
the  king  to  portion  off  mademoiselle  Julie,  so  that  she 
might  be  ever  removed  from  again  crossing  my  path. 

Meanwhile,  by  way  of  passing  the  tedious  hours,  I  went 
to  satisfy  my  curiosity  respecting  those  charms  of  which 
comte  Jean  had  spoken  so  highly.  I  found  the  object  of 
so  many  conjectures  possessed  of  an  uncommon  share  of 
beauty,  set  off,  on  the  present  occasion,  by  every  aid  that 
a  splendid  and  elaborate  toilette  could  impart;  her  fea- 
tures were  perfect,  her  form  tall  and  symmetrical,  her 
hair  was  in  the  richest  style  of  luxuriance;  but  by  way 
of  drawback  to  so  many  advantages,  both  her  hands  and 
feet  were  large  and  coarse.  I  had  expected  to  have 
found  her  timid,  yet  exulting,  but  she  seemed  languid 
and  dejected  even  to  indisposition.  I  attributed  the  lassi- 
tude and  heaviness  which  hung  over  her  to  some  natural 
regrets  for  sacrificing  some  youthful  passion  at  the  shrine 
of  ambition;  but  I  was  far  from  guessing  the  truth.  Had 
I  but  suspected  the  real  cause!  but  I  contented  myself 


372  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

with  a  silent  scrutiny,  and  did  not  ( as  I  should  have  done) 
question  her  on  the  subject,  but  passed  on  to  the  saloon, 
where  the  guests  were  already  assembled.  The  evening 
passed  away  most  delightfully ;  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix 
excelled  herself  in  keeping  up  a  continual  flow  of  lively 
conversation.  Never  had  messieurs  de  Cosse*  and  de 
Richelieu  appeared  to  equal  advantage.  The  king  laughed 
heartily  at  the  many  humorous  tales  told,  and  his  gaiety 
was  the  more  excited,  from  his  believing  that  I  was  in 
utter  ignorance  of  his  infidelity.  The  champagne  was 
passed  freely  round  the  table,  till  all  was  one  burst  of 
hilarious  mirth.  A  thousand  different  topics  were  started, 
and  dismissed  only  to  give  way  to  fresh  subjects  more 
piquant  than  the  preceding. 

The  king,  in  a  fit  of  good  humour,  began  to  relate  his 
adventures  with  madame  de  Grammont;  but  here  you 
must  pardon  me,  my  friend,  for  so  entirely  did  his 
majesty  give  the  reins  to  his  inclination  for  a  plain  style 
of  language,  that,  although  excess  of  prudery  formed  no 
part  of  the  character  of  any  of  the  ladies  assembled,  we 
were  compelled  to  sit  with  our  eyes  fixed  upon  our  plate 
or  glass,  not  daring  to  meet  the  glance  of  those  near  us. 
I  have  little  doubt  but  that  Louis  XV.  indulged  himself 
to  this  extent  by  a  kind  of  mental  vow  to  settle  the  af- 
fair with  his  confessor  at  the  earliest  opportunity. 

We  were  still  at  table  when  the  clock  struck  two  hours 
past  midnight. 

<(  Bless  me !  so  late  ? w  inquired  the  king. 

(<  Indeed,  sire, w  replied  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix, 
"your  agreeable  society  drives  all  recollection  of  time 
away.  * 

(<  Then  'tis  but  fit  I  should  furnish  you  all  with  memory 
enough  to  recollect  what  is  necessary  for  your  own 
health.  Come,  my  friends,  morning  will  soon  call  us  to 
our  different  cares,  so  away  to  your  pillows." 

So  saying,  the  king  bade  us  a  friendly  farewell,  and 
retired  with  the  dues  de  Duras  and  de  Noailles.  We  re- 
mained after  his  majesty,  and  retiring  into  the  great 
saloon,  threw  ourselves  without  any  ceremony  upon  the 
different  couches  and  ottomans. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  373 

<(  For  my  own  part,  *  said  the  prince  de  Soubise,  <(  I  shall 
not  think  of  separating  from  so  agreeable  a  party  till 
daylight  warns  me  hence.* 

<(The  first  beams  of  morn  will  soon  shine  through 
these  windows,8  replied  M.  d'Aiguillon. 

<(  We  can  already  perceive  the  brightest  rays  of  Aurora 
reflected  in  the  sparkling  eyes  around  us,"  exclaimed  M. 
de  Cosse. 

WA  truce  with  your  gallantry,  gentlemen,*  replied 
madame  de  Mirepoix,  (<at  my  age  I  can  only  believe 
myself  capable  of  reflecting  the  last  rays  of  the  setting 
sun. " 

(<  Hush ! *  interrupted  madame  de  Forcalquier,  (<  you 
forget  we  are  at  Versailles,  where  age  is  never  thought 
of,  but  where,  like  our  gracious  sovereign,  all  are  young. * 

(<  Come,  ladies, *  said  madame  de  Flaracourt,  <(  let  us 
retire;  I  for  one,  plead  guilty  of  being  in  need  of  re- 
pose. " 

<(  No,  no ! *  replied  the  due  de  Richelieu,  <(  let  us  em- 
ploy the  remaining  hours  in  pleasing  and  social  converse,* 
and  with  a  tremulous  voice  he  began  that  charming  trio 
in  (<  Selina  and  Azor,  *  *  Veillons  mes  soeurs.  *  We  joined 
chorus  with  him,  and  the  echoes  of  the  palace  of  Louis 
XV.  resounded  with  the  mirthful  strain.  This  burst  of 
noisy  mirth  did  not  last  long,  and  we  relapsed  into  in- 
creased taciturnity,  spite  of  our  endeavours  to  keep  up  a 
general  conversation.  We  were  all  fatigued,  though  none 
but  madame  de  Flaracourt  would  confess  •  the  fact. 
Tired  nature  called  loudly  for  repose,  and  we  were  each 
compelled  to  seek  it  in  the  different  apartments  assigned 
us.  The  due  d'Aiguillon  alone  was  compelled,  by  the 
duties  of  his  office,  to  return  to  Versailles. 

Upon  entering  my  chamber  I  found  my  brother-in-law 
there,  in  the  most  violent  fit  of  ill  humour,  that  the 
king  (who  was  in  fact  ignorant  of  his  being  at  Trianon) 
had  not  invited  him  to  supper.  As  I  have  before  told 
you,  comte  Jean  was  no  favourite  with  his  majesty,  and 
as  I  had  displayed  no  wish  for  his  company,  Louis  XV. 
had  gladly  profited  by  my  indifference  to  omit  him  upon 
the  present  occasion.  I  endeavoured  to  justify  the  king, 


374 

without  succeeding,  however,  in  appeasing  comte  Jean, 
who  very  unceremoniously  consigned  us  all  to  the  care 
and  company  of  a  certain  old  gentleman,  whose  territory 
is  supposed  to  lie  beneath  "the  round  globe  which  we 
inhabit. * 

"I  have  to  thank  you,*  replied  I,  "  for  a  very  flattering 
mode  of  saying  *  good  night. ' * 

"Perhaps,*  answered  comte  Jean  roughly,  "you  would 
prefer —  * 

"  Nothing  from  your  lips  if  you  please,  my  polite 
brother,*  cried  I,  interrupting  him,  "nothing  you  will 
say  in  your  present  humour  can  be  at  all  to  my  taste.* 

Chon  interfered  between  us,  and  effected  a  reconcilia- 
tion, which  I  was  the  more  willing  to  listen  to,  that  I 
might  enjoy  that  sleep  my  weary  eye-lids  craved  for. 
Scarcely  was  my  head  on  my  pillow,  than  I  fell  into  a  pro- 
found sleep :  could  I  but  have  anticipated  to  what  I  should 
awake!  It  was  eleven  o'clock  on  the  following  morning 
when  an  immense  noise  of  some  person  entering  my 
chamber,  aroused  me  from  the  sweet  slumbers  I  was  still 
buried  in.  Vexed  at  the  disturbance,  I  inquired,  in  a 
peevish  tone,  "  Who  is  there  ?  * 

ft'Tis  I,  my  sister,*  replied  Chon,  "  M.  de  Chamilly  is 
here,  anxious  to  speak  with  you  upon  a.  matter  of  great 
importance.  * 

Chamilly,  who  was  close  behind  mademoiselle  du  Barry, 
begged  to  be  admitted. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Chamilly  ?  *  cried  I,  "  and  what 
do  you  want?  Is  mademoiselle  Julie  to  set  off  into  the 
country  immediately  ?  * 

"Alas!  madam,*  replied  Chamilly,  "his  majesty  is  ex- 
tremely ill.* 

These  words  completely  roused  me,  and  raising  myself 
on  my  arm,  I  eagerly  repeated, 

"  111 !  of  what  does  he  complain  ?  * 

"Of  general  and  universal  pain  and  suffering,*  replied 
Chamilly. 

"  And  the  female  who  was  here  last  night,  how  is  she  ?  * 

"Nearly  as  bad,  madam;  she  arose  this  morning  com- 
plaining of  illness  and  languor,  which  increased  so  rap- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  375 

idly,  that  she  was  compelled  to  be  carried  to  one  of  the 
nearest  beds,  where  she  now  is.* 

All  this  tormented  me  to  the  greatest  degree,  and  I 
dismissed  Chamilly  for  the  purpose  of  rising,  although  I 
had  no  distinct  idea  of  what  it  would  be  most  desirable 
to  say  or  do.  My  sister-in-law,  with  more  self-possession, 
suggested  the  propriety  of  summoning  Bordeu,  my  phy- 
sician; a  proposal  which  I  at  once  concurred  in,  more 
especially  when  she  informed  me,  that  La  Martiniere  was 
already  sent  for,  and  hourly  expected. 

(<I  trust,*  said  I,  <(that  Bouvart  knows  nothing  of  this, 
for  I  neither  approve  of  him  as  a  man  or  a  doctor.* 

The  fact  was,  I  should  have  trembled  for  my  own  power, 
had  both  Bouvart  and  La  Martiniere  got  the  king  into 
their  hands.  With  La  Martiniere  I  knew  very  well  I 
was  no  favourite;  yet  it  was  impossible  to  prevent  his 
attendance ;  the  king  would  never  have  fancied  a  prescrip- 
tion in  which  he  did  not  concur. 

Meanwhile  I  proceeded  with  my  toilette  as  rapidly  as 
possible,  that  I  might,  by  visiting  the  king,  satisfy  myself 
of  the  nature  of  his  malady.  Ere  I  had  finished  dressing, 
my  brother-in-law,  who  had  likewise  been  aroused  by  the 
mention  of  his  majesty's  illness,  entered  my  chamber  with 
a  gloomy  look ;  he  already  saw  the  greatness  of  the  danger 
which  threatened  us,  he  had  entirely  forgotten  our  quarrel 
of  the  preceding  evening,  but  his  temper  was  by  no  means 
improved  by  the  present  state  of  things.  We  had  no 
need  of  explaining  ourselves  by  words,  and  he  continued 
walking  up  and  down  the  room  with  his  arms  folded  and 
his  eyes  fixed  on  the  floor,  till  we  were  joined  by  the 
mare'chale  de  Mirepoix  and  the  comtesse  de  Forcalquier. 
Madame  de  Flaracourt  had  taken  her  departure  at  an 
early  hour,  either  ignorant  of  what  had  occurred  or  with 
the  intention  of  being  prepared  for  whatever  might 
happen. 

As  yet,  it  was  but  little  in  the  power  of  any  person  to 
predict  the  coming  blow.  "The  king  is  ill,*  said  each 
of  us  as  we  met.  (<The  king  is  ill,*  was  the  morn- 
ing salutation  of  the  dues  de  Richelieu,  de  Noailles,  de 
Duras,  and  de  Cosse".  The  prince  de  Soubise  had  followed 


376  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

the  example  of  madame  de  Flaracourt,  and  had  quitted 
Trianon;  it  seemed  as  though  the  hour  for  defections 
were  already  arrived.  A  summons  now  arrived  from  his 
majesty  who  wished  to  see  me.  I  lost  not  a  moment  in 
repairing  to  his  apartment,  where  I  found  him  in  bed, 
apparently  in  much  pain  and  uneasiness.  He  received 
me  tenderly,  took  my  hands  in  his,  and  kissed  them ;  then 
exclaimed, 

(<  I  feel  more  indisposed  than  I  can  describe,  a  weight 
seems  pressing  on  my  chest,  and  universal  languor  ap- 
pears to  chain  my  faculties  both  of  body  and  mind.  I 
should  like  to  see  La  Martiniere.  * 

"And  would  you  not  likewise  wish  to  have  the  advice 
of  Bordeu  ? * 

"'Yes,*  said  he,  "let  both  come,  they  are  both  clever 
men,  and  I  have  full  confidence  in  their  skill.  But  do 
you  imagine  that  my  present  illness  will  be  of  a  serious 
nature  ? * 

"  By  no  means,  sire, *  returned  I,  (<  merely  temporary,  I 
trust  and  believe.* 

"Perhaps  I  took  more  wine  than  agreed  with  me  last 
evening ;  but  where  is  the  mare'chale  ? * 

"  In  my  chamber  with  madame  de  Forcalquier.  * 

"  And  the  prince  de  Soubise  ?  * 

"He  has  taken  flight,*  replied  I,  laughing. 

"  I  suppose  so,  *  returned  Louis  XV. ,  "  he  could  not 
bear  a  long  absence  from  Paris;  company  he  must  have. * 

"  In  that  respect  he  resembles  you,  sire,  for  you  gener- 
ally consider  company  as  a  necessary  good.* 

He  smiled,  and  then  closing  his  eyes  remained  for 
some  minutes  silent  and  motionless,  after  a  while  he 
said, 

"My  head  is  very  heavy,  so  farewell,  my  sweet  friend, 
I  will  endeavour  to  get  some  sleep.* 

"  Sleep,  sire !  *  said  I,  "  and  may  it  prove  as  healthful 
and  refreshing  as  I  pray  it  may.* 

So  saying,  I  glided  out  of  the  room  and  returned  to 
my  friends,  I  found  madame  de  Mirepoix  and  the  due 
de  Cosse"  waiting  for  me  in  the  anteroom. 

"  How  is  the  king  ?  *  inquired  they  botk  in  a  breath. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  377 

"Better  than  I  expected,"  I  replied,  (<but  he  is  desir- 
ous of  sleeping." 

<(  So  much  the  worse, "  observed  the  due  de  Cosse" ;  <(  I 
should  have  thought  better  of  his  case  had  he  been 
more  wakeful." 

"Are  you  aware  of  the  most  imperative  step  for  you 
to  take  ? "  inquired  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix. 

"No,"  said  I,  "what  is  it?" 

<(  To  keep  his  majesty  at  Trianon,"  replied  she;  <(  it 
will  be  far  better  for  you  that  the  present  illness  should 
take  its  course  at  Trianon  rather  than  at  Versailles." 

"I  second  that  advice,"  cried  the  due  de  Richelieu, 
who  just  then  entered  the  room;  "yes,  yes,  as  madame 
de  Mirepoix  wisely  observes,  this  is  the  place  for  the 
king  to  be  ill  in." 

"But,"  exclaimed  I,  "must  we  not  be  guided  by  the 
physicians'  advice  ? " 

"  Do  you  make  sure  of  Bordeu, "  said  the  duke,  "  and  I 
will  speak  to  La  Martiniere." 

M.  de  Cosse"  took  me  aside,  and  assured  me  that  I 
might  rely  upon  him  in  life  or  death.  When  we  had 
conversed  together  for  some  minutes,  I  besought  of  him 
to  leave  the  place  as  early  as  possible ;  "  Take  madame 
de  Forcalquier  with  you,"  said  I,  "your  presence  just 
now  at  Trianon  would  be  too  much  commented  upon." 

He  made  some  difficulties  in  obeying  me,  but  I  in- 
sisted and  he  went.  After  his  departure,  the  due  de 
Richelieu  the  mare'chale  and  myself  walked  together  in 
the  garden.  Our  walk  was  so  directed  that  we  could  see 
through  the  colonnade  every  person  who  arrived  up  the 
avenue.  We  spoke  but  little,  and  an  indescribable  feel- 
ing of  solemnity  was  mingled  with  the  few  words  which 
passed,  when,  all  at  once,  our  attention  was  attracted  by 
the  sight  of  comte  Jean,  who  rushed  towards  me  in  a 
state  of  frenzy. 

"Accursed  day,"  cried  he,  stopping  when  he  saw  us, 
"  that  wretched  girl  from  Versailles  has  brought  the  small- 
pox with  her." 

At  this  fatal  news  I  heaved  a  deep  sigh  and  fainted. 
I  was  carried  under  the  portico,  while  the  poor  mare'chale, 


378  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

scarcely  more  in  her  senses  than  myself,  stood  over  me 
weeping  like  a  child,  while  every  endeavour  was  being 
made  to  restore  me  to  life.  Bordeu,  who  chanced  to  be 
at  Versailles,  arrived,  and  supposing  it  was  on  my  ac- 
count he  had  been  summoned,  hastened  to  my  assist- 
ance. The  due  de  Richelieu  and  comte  Jean  informed 
him  of  all  that  had  passed,  upon  which  he  requested  to 
see  the  unfortunate  female  immediately;  while  he  was 
conducted  thither,  I  remained  alone  with  the  mare"chale 
and  Henriette,  who  had  come  to  Trianon  with  my  suite. 
My  first  impulse  upon  regaining  the  use  of  my  senses, 
was  to  throw  myself  in  the  arms  of  the  mare"chale. 

*  What  will  become  of  me  ? J>  exclaimed  I,  weeping, 
wif  the  king  should  take  this  fatal  malady,  he  will  never 
survive  it* 

<(Let  us  hope  for  the  best,*  answered  madame  de 
Mirepoix;  (<it  would  be  encouraging  grief  to  believe  a 
misfortune,  which  we  have  at  present  no  reason  to  sus- 
pect. w 

Comte  Jean  now  rejoined  us,  accompanied  by  Bordeu 
and  the  due  de  Richelieu;  their  countenances  were  gloomy 
and  dejected.  The  miserable  victim  of  ambition  had  the 
symptoms  of  the  most  malignant  sort  of  small-pox;  this 
was  a  finishing  stroke  to  my  previous  alarms.  However, 
comte  Jean  whispered  in  my  ear,  (<  Bordeu  will  arrange 
that  the  king  shall  remain  here.® 

This  assurance  restored  me  to  something  like  compo- 
sure; but  these  hopes  were  speedily  dissipated  by  the 
arrival  of  La  Martiniere. 

(<  What  is  the  matter  ? )}  inquired  he,  <(  is  the  king  very 
ill?» 

"That  remains  for  you  to  decide*;  replied  the  due  de 
Richelieu ;  <(  but  however  it  may  be,  madame  du  Barry 
entreats  of  you  not  to  think  of  removing  the  king  to 
Versailles. w 

(<  And  why  so  ? w  asked  La  Martiniere,  with  his  accus- 
tomed abruptness.  a  His  majesty  would  be  much  better 
there  than  here." 

<(  He  can  nowhere  be  better  than  at  Trianon,  monsieur, " 
said  I. 


COMTESSE  DU  BARRY  379 

<(  That,  madam,®  answered  La  Martiniere,  "is  the  only 
point  upon  which  you  must  excuse  my  consulting  you,  un- 
less, indeed,  you  are  armed  with  a  physician's  diploma." 

<(  Monsieur  la  Martiniere, "  cried  the  due  de  Richelieu, 
(<  you  might  employ  more  gentle  language  when  speaking 
to  a  lady." 

<(Was  I  sent  for  hither,"  inquired  the  angry  physician, 
*  to  go  through  a  course  of  politeness  ? " 

For  my  own  part  I  felt  the  utmost  dread,  I  scarcely 
knew  of  what.  Bordeu,  seeing  my  consternation,  hastened 
to  interfere,  by  saying, 

(<At  any  rate,  monsieur  la  Martiniere,  you  will  not 
alarm  the  king  needlessly." 

<(  Nor  lull  him  into  a  false  security, "  answered  the  de- 
termined La  Martiniere.  (<  But  what  is  his  malady  ?  have 
you  seen  him,  doctor  Bordeu  ?  " 

«  Not  yet. » 

<(  Then  why  do  we  linger  here  ?  Your  servant,  ladies 
and  gentlemen." 

The  medical  men  then  departed,  accompanied  by  the 
due  de  Richelieu. 


CHAPTER    XL. 

La  Martiniere  causes  the  king  to  be  removed  to  Versailles  —  The 
young  prophet  appears  again  to  madame  du  Barry  —  Prediction 
respecting  cardinal  de  Richelieu  —  The  joiner's  daughter  requests 
to  see  madame  du  Barry  —  Madame  de  Mirepoix  and  the  50,000 
francs — A  soirte  in  the  salon  of  madame  du  Barry. 

WE  CONTINUED  for  some  minutes  silently  gazing  on 
the  retreating  figures  of  La  Martiniere  and  his 
,  companions. 

"Come,*  said  the  mare'chale,  "let  us  return  to  the 
house  >y ;  saying  which,  she  supported  herself  by  the  arm 
of  comte  Jean,  whilst  I  mechanically  followed  her  exam- 
ple, and  sadly  and  sorrowfully  we  bent  our  steps  beneath 
the  splendid  colonnade  which  formed  the  entrance  to  the 
mansion. 

When  I  reached  my  chamber,  I  found  mademoiselle  du 
Barry  there,  still  ignorant  of  the  alarming  news  I  had 
just  learned.  She  earnestly  pressed  me  to  return  to  bed, 
but  this  I  refused ;  for  my  burning  anxiety  to  learn  every 
particular  relative  to  the  king  would  have  prevented  my 
sleeping.  How  different  was  the  style  of  our  present  con- 
versation to  that  of  the  preceding  evening;  no  sound  of 
gaiety  was  heard;  hushed  alike  were  the  witty  repartee, 
and  the  approving  laugh  which  followed  it.  Now,  we 
spoke  but  by  fits  and  starts,  with  eye  and  ear  on  the  watch 
to  catch  the  slightest  sound,  whilst  the  most  trifling  noise, 
or  the  opening  of  a  door,  made  us  start  with  trepidation 
and  alarm.  The  time  appeared  to  drag  on  to  an  inter- 
minable length. 

At  last  the  due  de  Richelieu  made  his  appearance. 

"Well,  my  friends, *  said  he,  "the  king  is  to  be  re- 
moved to  Versailles,  spite  of  your  wishes,  madam,  spite 
of  his  own  royal  inclination,  and  against  mine,  likewise. 
(380) 


COMTESSE   DU    BARRY  38\ 

La  Martiniere  has  thundered  forth  his  edict,  and  poor  Bor- 
deu  opposed  him  in  vain.  His  majest)',  who  expresses  a 
wish  to  remain  here,  stated  his  pleasure  to  La  Marti- 
niere. 

"'Sire,'  answered  the  obstinate  physician,  *  it  cannot 
be.  You  are  too  ill  to  be  permitted  to  take  your  choice 
in  the  matter,  and  to  the  chateau  at  Versailles  you  must 
be  removed. ' 

"  *  Your  words  imply  my  being  dangerously  indisposed, ' 
said  the  king,  inquiringly. 

w<Your  majesty  is  sufficiently  ill  to  justify  every  pre- 
caution, and  to  require  our  best  cares.  You  must  return 
to  the  chateau;  Trianon  is  not  healthy;  you  will  be  much 
better  at  Versailles.' 

<(<Upon  my  word,  doctor,'  replied  the  king,  'your 
words  are  far  from  consoling;  there  must  be  danger, 
then,  in  my  present  sickness  ?  ' 

(<  <  There  would  be  considerable  danger  were  you  to  re- 
main here,  whilst  it  is  very  probable  you  may  avoid  any 
chance  of  it  by  following  my  directions  with  regard  to 
an  immediate  removal  to  Versailles.' 

<(<I  feel  but  little  disposed  for  the  journey,'  said  his 
majesty. 

<(  <  Still,  your  majesty  must  be  removed,  there  is  an  abso- 
lute necessity  for  it,  and  I  take  all  the  responsibility  upon 
myself. ' 

"What  do  you  think  of  this  determination,   Bordeu?' 

<(  <  I  think,  sire,  that  you  may  be  permitted  to  please 
yourself. ' 

<(  *  You  hear  that,  La  Martiniere  ? ' 

<<(Yes,  sire,  and  your  majesty  heard  my  opinion  like- 
wise. '  Then  turning  towards  Bordeu,  '  Sir, '  exclaimed 
he,  (I  call  upon  you  in  my  capacity  of  head  physician 
to  the  king,  to  state  your  opinion  in  writing,  and  to  abide 
by  the  consequences  of  it;  you  who  are  not  one  of  his 
majesty's  physicians.' 

<(At  this  direct  appeal,  your  doctor,  driven  to  extremi- 
ties, adopted  either  the  wise  or  cowardly  resolution  of 
maintaining  a  strict  silence.  The  king,  who  was  awaiting 
his  reply  with  much  impatience,  perceiving  his  reluctance 


382  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

to  speak,  turned  towards  the  due  de  Duras,  who  was  in 
attendance  upon  him,  and  said,  *  Let  them  take  me  when 
and  where  my  head  physician  advises.  *  * 

At  this  recital  I  shed  fresh  tears.  The  duke  after- 
wards told  us  that  when  La  Martiniere  had  quitted  his 
majesty,  he  went  to  ascertain  the  condition  of  the  wretched 
girl  who  had  introduced  all  this  uneasiness  among  us,  and 
after  having  attentively  examined  her,  he  exclaimed,  <(  She 
is  past  all  hope,  God  only  knows  what  the  consequences 
may  be. B  This  gloomy  prognostic  added  still  more  to  my 
distress,  and  whilst  those  around  me  strove  to  communi- 
cate fresh  hopes  and  confidence  to  my  tortured  mind,  I 
remained  in  a  state  too  depressed  and  dejected  to  admit 
one,  even  one  ray  of  consolation. 

The  king  was  removed  from  Trianon,  followed  by  all 
the  persons  belonging  to  his  suite.  The  mare'chale  in- 
sisted upon  deferring  her  departure  till  I  quitted  the 
place.  We  set  out  a  few  minutes  after  his  majesty,  and 
my  coachman  had  orders  to  observe  the  same  slow  pace 
at  which  the  royal  carriage  travelled.  Scarcely  had  we 
reached  Versailles,  when  mechanically  directing  my  eyes 
towards  the  iron  gate  leading  to  the  garden,  a  sudden 
paleness  overspread  my  countenance,  and  a  cry  of  terror 
escaped  me,  for,  leaning  against  the  gate  in  question,  I 
perceived  that  singular  being,  who,  after  having  foretold 
my  elevation,  had  engaged  to  present  himself  before  me, 
when  a  sudden  reverse  was  about  to  overtake  me.  This 
unexpected  fulfilment  of  his  promise  threw  me  into  the 
most  cruel  agitation,  and  I  could  not  refrain  from  ex- 
plaining the  cause  of  my  alarm  to  those  who  were  with 
me.  No  sooner  had  I  made  myself  understood  than 
comte  Jean  stopped  the  carriage,  and  jumped  out  with 
the  intention  of  questioning  this  mysterious  visitor.  We 
waited  with  extreme  impatience  the  return  of  my  brother- 
in-law,  but  he  came  back  alone,  nor  had  he  been  able  to 
discover  the  least  trace  of  the  object  of  his  search.  In 
vain  had  he  employed  the  two  footmen  from  behind  the 
carriage  to  examine  the  different  avenues  by  which  he 
might  have  retired.  Nothing  could  be  heard  of  him,  and 
I  remained,  more  than  ever,  convinced  that  the  entire 


COMTESSE   DU  BARRY  383 

fulfilment  of  the  prophecy  was  at  hand,  and  that  the  fatal 
hour  would  shortly  strike,  which  would  witness  my  fall 
from  all  my  pomp  and  greatness.  We  continued  our 
route  slowly  and  silently;  the  mare*chale  accompanied  me 
to  the  door  of  my  apartment,  where  I  bade  her  adieu, 
spite  of  her  wish  to  remain  with  me ;  but  even  her  society 
was  now  fatiguing  to  me,  and  I  longed  to  be  alone  with 
merely  my  own  family. 

My  two  sisters-in-law,  the  wife  of  comte  d'Hargicourt 
and  that  of  my  nephew,  were  speedily  assembled  to  talk 
over  with  me  the  events  of  the  last  twelve  hours.  I 
threw  myself  upon  my  bed  in  a  state  of  mental  and 
bodily  fatigue,  impossible  to  describe.  I  strove  in  vain  to 
collect  my  ideas,  and  arm  myself  for  what  I  well  saw  was 
approaching,  and  the  exact  appearance  of  the  singular 
predicter  of  my  destiny  prepared  me  for  the  rapid  accom- 
plishing of  all  that  had  been  promised. 

Louis  XV.,  during  this  fatal  illness,  was  placed  under 
the  care  of  Bordeu  and  Lemonnier.  No  particularly 
alarming  symptoms  appeared  during  that  day,  and  we  re- 
mained in  a  state  of  suspense  more  difficult  to  bear  than 
even  the  most  dreadful  certainty.  As  soon  as  the  king 
felt  himself  sufficiently  recovered  from  the  fatigues  of  his 
removal  he  requested  to  see  me.  After  bestowing  on  me 
the  most  gratifying  marks  of  the  sincerest  attachment, 
he  said, 

(<  I  am  well  punished,  my  dear  countess,  for  my  incon- 
stancy towards  you,  but  forgive  me.  I  pray  and  believe 
that,  however  my  fancy  may  wander,  my  heart  is  all  your 
own. M 

<(  Is  that  quite  true  ? w  said  I,  smiling.  <(  Have  you  not 
some  reservations  ?  Does  not  a  noble  female  in  the  Pare- 
aux-Cerfs  come  in  for  a  share  as  well  as  the  baroness  de 
New— k  ? » 

The  king  pressed  my  hand,  and  replied, 

<(  You  must  not  believe  all  those  idle  tales ;  I  met  the 
baroness  by  chance,  and,  for  a  time,  I  thought  her  pretty. 
As  for  the  other,  if  she  renders  you  in  any  way  uneasy, 
let  her  be  married  at  once,  and  sent  where  we  need  never 
see  her  again." 


384  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

"This  is,  indeed,  the  language  of  sincerity,*  cried  I, 
(<  and  from  this  moment  I  shall  have  the  fullest  confi- 
dence in  you." 

The  conversation  was  carried  on  for  a  long  while  in 
this  strain.  The  physicians  had  made  so  light  of  the  com- 
plaint, that  the  king  believed  his  illness  to  be  merely  of 
a  temporary  nature,  and  his  gaiety  and  good  spirits  re- 
turned almost  to  their  natural  height.  He  inquired  after 
madame  de  Mirepoix,  and  whether  my  sisters-in-law  were 
uneasy  respecting  his  state  of  health.  You  may  imagine 
that  my  reply  was  worded  with  all  the  caution  necessary 
to  keep  him  in  profound  ignorance  as  to  his  real  condi- 
tion. When  I  returned  to  my  apartment  I  found  Bordeu 
there,  who  appeared  quite  at  a  loss  what  to  say  respect- 
ing the  king's  malady,  the  symptoms  still  remained  too 
uncertain  to  warrant  any  person  in  calling  it  the  small- 
pox. 

(<  And  should  it  prove  that  horrible  complaint  ? "  in- 
quired I. 

K There  would,  in  that  case,  be  considerable  danger," 
replied  Bordeu,  not  without  extreme  embarrassment. 

<(  Perhaps  even  to  the  extinction  of  all  hope  ? "  asked  I. 

wGod  alone  can  tell,"  returned  Bordeu. 

(<  I  understand, "  interrupted  I,  quickly,  <(  and,  spite  of 
the  mystery  with  which  you  would  fain  conceal  the  ex- 
tent of  his  majesty's  danger,  I  know,  and  venture  to 
assert,  that  you  consider  him  already  as  dead." 

<(  Have  a  care,  madam,"  exclaimed  Bordeu,  <(how  you 
admit  such  an  idea,  and  still  more  of  proclaiming  it.  I 
pledge  you  my  word  that  I  do  not  consider  the  king  is 
in  danger;  I  have  seen  many  cures  equally  extraordinary 
with  his." 

I  shook  my  head  in  token  of  disbelief.  I  had  uttered 
what  I  firmly  supposed  the  truth,  and  the  sight  of  my 
evil  genius  in  the  person  of  the  prophet  who  had  awaited 
my  return  to  Versailles,  turned  the  encouraging  words  of 
Bordeu  into  a  cold,  heavy  chill,  which  struck  to  my 
heart.  Bordeu  quitted  me  to  resume  his  attendance  upon 
the  king.  After  him  came  the  due  d'Aiguillon,  whose 
features  bore  the  visible  marks  of  care  and  disquiet.  He 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  385 

met  me  with  the  utmost  tenderness  and  concern,  asked 
of  me  the  very  smallest  details  of  the  disastrous  events 
of  the  morning.  I  concealed  nothing  from  him,  and  he 
listened  to  my  recital  with  the  most  lively  interest;  and 
the  account  of  the  apparition  of  the  wonderful  being  who 
seemed  destined  to  follow  me  throughout  my  career  was 
not  the  least  interesting  part  of  our  conversation. 

<(  There  are,  *  said  the  duke,  <(  many  very  extraordi- 
nary things  in  this  life,  reason  questions  them,  philosophy 
laughs  at  them,  and  yet  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that 
there  are  various  hidden  causes,  or  sudden  inspirations, 
which  have  the  greatest  effect  upon  our  destiny.  As  a 
proof,  I  will  relate  to  you  the  following  circumstance. 
You  are  aware, }>  continued  the  duke,  <(that  the  cardinal 
de  Richelieu,  the  author  of  our  good  fortune,  spite  of  the 
superiority  of  his  mind,  believed  in  judicial  astrology. 
When  his  own  immediate  line  became  extinct  by  the  un- 
expected death  of  his  family  and  relatives,  he  wished  to 
ascertain  what  would  be  the  fate  of  those  children  be- 
longing to  his  sister,  whom  he  had  adopted  as  the  suc- 
cessors of  his  name,  arms,  and  fortune.  The  planets  were 
consulted,  and  the  answer  received  was,  that  two  cen- 
turies from  the  day  on  which  Providence  had  so  highly 
elevated  himself,  the  family,  upon  whom  rested  all  his 
hopes  of  perpetuating  his  name,  should  fail  entirely  in 
its  male  descent  You  see  that  the  due  de  Fronsac  has 
only  one  child,  an  infant  not  many  days  old.  I  also 
have  but  one,  and  these  two  feeble  branches  seem  but 
little  calculated  to  falsify  the  prediction.  Judge,  my  dear 
countess,  how  great  must  be  my  paternal  anxiety!  w 

This  relation  on  the  part  of  the  due  d'Aiguillon  was 
but  ill  calculated  to  restore  my  drooping  spirits,  and  al- 
though I  had  no  reason  for  concluding  that  the  astrologer 
had  spoken  prophetically  to  the  grand  cardinal,  I  was  not 
the  less  inclined  to  believe,  with  increased  confidence,  the 
predictions  uttered  respecting  myself  by  my  inexplicable 
visitor  of  the  morning.  My  ever  kind  friend,  the  duch- 
esse  d'Aiguillon,  was  not  long  ere  she  too  made  her  ap- 
pearance, with  the  view,  and  in  the  hope  of  consoling  me. 
I  could  not  resist  her  earnest  endeavours  to  rouse  me 
25 


386  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

from  my  grief,  and  a  grateful  sense  of  her  goodness 
obliged  me  to  deck  my  features  with  at  least  the  sem- 
blance of  cheerfulness.  Every  hour  fresh  accounts  of  the 
king's  health  were  brought  me,  of  a  most  encouraging 
nature;  by  these  bulletins  one  might  naturally  suppose 
him  rapidly  recovering,  and  we  all  began  to  smile  at  our 
folly  in  having  been  so  soon  alarmed;  in  fact,  my  spirits 
rose  in  proportion  as  those  about  me  appeared  full  of 
fresh  confidence,  and  the  mysterious  visit  of  my  evil 
genius  gradually  faded  from  my  recollection. 

In  this  manner  the  day  passed  away.  I  visited  the 
king  from  time  to  time,  and  he,  although  evidently  much 
oppressed  and  indisposed,  conversed  with  me  without  any 
painful  effort.  His  affection  for  me  seemed  to  gain  fresh 
strength  as  his  bodily  vigour  declined,  and  the  fervent 
attachment  he  expressed  for  me,  at  a  time  when  self 
might  reasonably  have  been  expected  to  hold  possession 
of  his  mind,  filled  me  with  regret  at  not  being  able  more 
fully  to  return  so  much  tenderness.  In  the  evening  I 
wished  to  be  alone,  the  marechale  de  Mirepoix  had  sent 
to  request  a  private  interview,  and  I  awaited  her  arrival 
in  my  chamber,  whilst  an  immense  concourse  of  visitors 
filled  my  salons.  The  king's  danger  was  not  yet  suffi- 
ciently decided  for  the  courtiers  to  abandon  me,  and  the 
chances  continued  too  strongly  in  my  favour  to  warrant 
any  one  of  them  in  withdrawing  from  me  their  usual 
attentions.  Comte  Jean,  however,  presented  himself  be- 
fore me,  spite  of  the  orders  I  had  given  to  exclude  every 
person  but  the  mare*chale. 

<(  My  dear  sister, }>  cried  he,  as  he  entered,  a  Chamilly 
has  just  told  me  that  he  has  received  the  royal  command 
to  have  Julie  married  off  without  delay;  now  this  is  a 
piece  of  delicacy  towards  yourself  on  the  part  of  the 
king  for  which  you  owe  him  many  thanks.  But  I  have 
another  communication  to  make  you,  of  a  less  pleasing 
nature.  The  unfortunate  girl  who  has  been  left  at  Tri- 
anon, has  called  incessantly  for  you  the  whole  of  this 
day;  she  asserts  that  she  has  matters  of  importance  to 
communicate  to  you.M 

Whatever  surprise  I  experienced  at  this  intelligence,  it 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  387 

was  impossible  it  could  be  otherwise  than  true,  for  was 
it  likely  that,  at  a  time  like  the  present,  comte  Jean  would 
attempt  to  impose  such  a  tale  upon  me. 

<(  What  would  you  have  me  do  ? )}  asked  I  of  my  brother- 
in-law. 

(<  Hark  ye,  sister,  *  replied  he,  *  we  are  both  of  us  in  a 
very  critical  situation  just  now,  and  should  spare  no  en- 
deavour to  extricate  ourselves  from  it.  Very  possibly  this 
girl  may  be  in  possession  of  facts  more  important  than 
you  at  present  conceive  possible;  the  earnestness  with 
which  she  perseveres  in  her  desire  of  seeing  you,  and  her 
repeated  prayers  to  those  around  her  to  beg  your  attend- 
ance, proves  that  it  is  something  more  than  the  mere 
whim  of  a  sick  person,  and  in  your  place,  I  should  not 
hesitate  to  comply  with  her  wishes.* 

<(  And  how  could  we  do  so  ?  *  said  I. 

<(  To-night, }>  returned  he,  <(  when  all  your  guests  have 
retired,  and  Versailles  is  in  a  manner  deserted,  I  will 
fetch  you;  we  have  keys  which  open  the  various  gates 
in  the  park,  and  walking  through  which,  and  the  gar- 
dens, we  can  reach  Trianon  unobserved.  No  person 
will  be  aware  of  our  excursion,  and  we  shall  return  with 
the  same  caution  with  which  we  went.  We  will,  after 
our  visit,  cause  our  clothes  to  be  burnt,  take  a  bath,  and 
use  every  possible  precaution  to  purify  ourselves  from 
all  chance  of  infection.  When  that  is  done  you  may 
venture  into  the  apartment  of  his  majesty,  even  if  that 
malady  which  at  present  hangs  over  him  should  turn  out 
to  be  the  small-pox.* 

I  thought  but  little  of  the  consequences  of  our  scheme, 
or  of  the  personal  danger  I  incurred,  and  I  promised 
my  brother-in-law  that  I  would  hold  myself  in  readiness 
to  accompany  him.  We  then  conversed  together  upon 
the  state  of  the  king,  and,  what  you  will  have  some  diffi- 
culty in  crediting,  not  one  word  escaped  either  of  us 
relative  to  our  future  plans  or  prospects;  still  it  was  the 
point  to  which  the  thoughts  of  comte  Jean  must  naturally 
have  turned 

We  were  interrupted  in  our  t$te-&-t$te  by  the  arrival 
of  the  mare'chale,  whose  exactitude  I  could  not  but  ad- 


3«8  MEMOIRS  OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

mire.  Comte  Jean,  having  hastily  paid  his  compliments, 
left  us  together. 

<(Well,  my  dear  countess,*  said  she,  taking  my  hand 
with  a  friendly  pressure,  <(  and  how  goes  on  the  dear 
invalid  ?  * 

<( Better,  I  hope,"  replied  I,  <(and  indeed,  this  illness, 
at  first  so  alarming  to  me,  seems  rather  calculated  to  al- 
lay my  former  fears  and  anxieties  by  affording  the  king 
calm  and  impartial  reflection;  the  result  of  it  is  that  my 
dreaded  rival  of  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs  is  dismissed." 

*  I  am    delighted    to  hear    this, "   replied    madame    de 
Mirepoix,  <(  but,  my  dear  soul,  let  me  caution  you  against 
too    implicitly  trusting  these    deceitful    appearances,    to- 
morrow may  destroy  these  flattering  hopes,  and  the  next 
day—  " 

<(  Indeed !  "  cried  I,  interrupting  her,  (<  the  physicians 
answer  for  his  recovery." 

"And  suppose  they  should  chance  to  be  mistaken," 
returned  my  cautious  friend,  (<  what  then  ?  But,  my 
dear  countess,  my  regard  for  you  compels  me  to  speak 
out,  and  to  warn  you  of  reposing  in  tranquillity  when 
you  ought  to  be  acting.  Do  not  deceive  yourself,  leave 
nothing  to  chance ;  and  if  you  have  any  favour  to  ask  of 
the  king,  lose  no  time  in  so  doing  while  yet  you  have  the 
opportunity. " 

<(  And  what  favour  would  you  advise  me  to  ask  ? " 
said  I. 

*  You   do  not    understand    me,   then  ? "   exclaimed  the 
mare"chale,  w  I   say  that   it   is  imperatively  necessary  for 
you  to  accept   whatever  the   king  may  feel  disposed  to 
offer  you  as  a  future  provision,  and  as  affording  you  the 
means  of  passing  the  remainder  of  your  days  in  ease  and 
tranquillity.     What  would  become  of  you  in  case  of  the 
worst?    Your  numerous  creditors  would  besiege  you  with 
a    rapacity,    still    further    excited    by    the    support    they 
would  receive  from  court.     You  look  at  me  with  surprise 
because  I  speak  the  language   of  truth;   be  a  reasonable 
creature  I  implore  of  you  once  in  your   life,  and  do  not 
thus  sacrifice  the  interests  of  your  life  to  a  romantic  dis- 
regard of  self," 


COMTESSE    DU   BARRY  389 

I  could  not  feel  offended  with  the  mare'chale  for  ad- 
dressing me  thus,  but  I  could  not  help  fancying  the 
moment  was  ill  chosen,  and  unable  to  frame  an  answer 
to  my  mind,  I  remained  silent.  Mistaken  as  to  the  cause 
of  my  taciturnity,  she  continued, 

(<  Come,  I  am  well  pleased  to  see  you  thus  reflecting 
upon  what  I  have  said;  but  lose  no  time,  strike  the  iron 
while  it  is  hot.  Do  as  I  have  recommended  either  to- 
night or  early  to-morrow;  possibly,  after  that  time  it  may 
be  too  late.  May  I  venture  also  to  remind  you  of  your 
friends,  my  dear  countess.  I  am  in  great  trouble  just 
now,  and  I  trust  you  will  not  refuse  to  obtain  for  me, 
from  his  majesty,  a  favour  of  which  I  stand  in  the  utmost 
need — 50,000  francs  would  come  very  seasonably;  I  have 
lost  that  sum  at  cards,  and  must  pay  it,  but  how  I  know 
not.» 

"Let  not  that  distress  you,*  said  I,  <(for  I  can  relieve 
you  of  that  difficulty  until  the  king's  convalescence  en- 
ables him  to  undertake  the  pleasing  office  of  assisting 
your  wishes.  M.  de  Laborde  has  orders  to  honour  all  my 
drafts  upon  him,  I  will  therefore  draw  for  the  sum  you 
require."  So  saying,  I  hastily  scrawled  upon  a  little  tum- 
bled piece  of  paper  those  magic  words,  which  had  power 
to  unlock  the  strong  coffers  of  a  court  banker.  The 
mare'chale  embraced  me  several  times  with  the  utmost 
vivacity. 

a  You  are  my  guardian  angel, *  cried  she,  <(  you  save  me 
from  despair.  But,  tell  me,  my  generous  friend,  do  you 
think  M.  de  Laborde  will  make  any  difficulty  ? * 

<(  Why, *  said  I,  <(  should  you  suppose  it  possible  he  will 
do  so  ? * 

<(  Oh,  merely  on  account  of  present  circumstances. * 

<(  What  circumstances  ?  * 

(<  The  illness  —  no,  I  mean  the  indisposition  of  his 
majesty.  * 

(<  He  is  an  excellent  man,8  said  I,  "and  I  doubt  not 
but  he  will  act  nobly  and  honourably.* 

<(  If  we  could  but  procure  his  majesty's  signature  —  * 

<(  But  that  is  quite  impossible  to-night.  * 

<(I    know   it  is,  and,  therefore,   I  will   tell   you  what    I 


390  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

think  of  doing.  Perhaps,  if  I  were  to  set  out  for  Paris 
immediately,  I  might  be  able  to  present  this  cheque  be- 
foie  Laborde  is  acquainted  with  our  misfortune.  It  is 
not  late,  so  farewell,  my  dearest  countess.  I  shall  return 
to-morrow,  before  you  are  up,  but  do  not  forget  what  I 
have  said  to  you ;  and  remember,  that  under  any  circum- 
stances, the  king  should  secure  you  a  safe  and  ample 
independence.  If  his  death  finds  you  well  provided  for, 
you  will  still  have  a  court,  friends,  relatives,  partisans, 
in  a  word,  the  means  of  gratifying  every  inclination.  Be 
guided  by  me,  and  follow  my  advice. J> 

And  after  this  lesson  of  practical  morality,  the  mare*- 
chale  quitted  me  to  hurry  to  Paris;  and  I,  wearied  and 
heartsick,  flew  to  my  crowded  salons  as  a  remedy  against 
the  gloomy  ideas  her  conversation  had  given  rise  to. 

On  this  evening  my  guests  were  more  numerous  and 
brilliant  than  usual,  for  no  person  entertaining  the  least 
suspicion  of  the  king's  danger,  all  vied  with  each  other 
in  evincing,  by  their  presence,  the  desire  they  felt  of  ex- 
pressing their  regard  for  me.  My  friends,  acquaintances, 
people  whom  I  scarcely  knew  at  all,  were  collected  to- 
gether in  my  drawing-rooms;  this  large  assemblage  of 
joyous  and  cheerful  faces,  drove  away  for  a  moment  all 
the  gloom  which  had  hung  over  me.  I  even  forgot  the 
morning's  visitor,  and  if  the  health  of  the  king  were  at 
all  alluded  to,  it  was  only  en  passant.  It  seemed  a  gen- 
erally understood  thing  not  to  believe  him  seriously  ill; 
in  fact,  to  deny  all  possibility  of  such  a  thing  being  the 
case.  Thus  all  went  on  as  usual,  scandal,  slander,  epi- 
grams, jeux  d'esprits,  all  the  lively  nonsense  usually  cir- 
culated upon  such  occasions,  went  round,  and  were 
laughed  at  and  admired  according  to  the  tastes  of  those 
to  whom  they  were  addressed. 

Could  a  stranger  have  seen  us,  so  careless,  thoughtless, 
and  gay,  he  would  have  been  far  from  suspecting  that 
we  were  upon  the  eve  of  a  catastrophe  which  must  change 
the  whole  face  of  affairs  in  France.  For  my  own  part, 
my  spirits  rose  to  a  height  with  the  giddy  crowd  around 
me,  and  in  levity  and  folly,  I  really  believe  I  exceeded 
them. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  391 

At  a  late  hour  my  rooms  were  at  length  forsaken,  and 
I  retired  to  my  chamber,  where,  having  dismissed  my 
other  attendants,  I  remained  alone  (as  was  frequently 
my  custom)  with  my  faithful  Henriette,  whom  I  caused 
to  exchange  my  evening  dress  for  a  dark  robe,  which  I 
covered  with  a  large  Spanish  mantle  I  had  never  before 
worn,  and  thus  equipped,  I  waited  the  arrival  of  comte 
Jean.  Henriette,  surprised  at  these  preparations,  pressed 
me  with  so  many  questions,  that  at  last  I  explained  my 
whole  purpose  to  her.  The  attached  creature  exerted  all 
her  eloquence  to  point  out  the  dangers  of  the  enterprise, 
which  she  implored  of  me  to  abandon,  but  I  refused  to 
listen  to  her  remonstrances,  and  she  ceased  urging  me 
further,  only  protesting  she  should  await  my  return  with 
the  most  lively  impatience. 

At  length,  comte  Jean  appeared,  armed  with  a  small 
sword-stick  and  pistols  in  his  pocket,  with  every  other 
precaution  necessary  for  undertaking  so  perilous  an  ad- 
venture. We  descended  into  the  garden  with  many 
smiles  at  the  singular  figures  we  made,  but  no  sooner 
were  we  in  the  open  air,  than  the  sight  of  the  clear 
heavens  sparkling  with  stars,  the  cool  still  night,  the 
vast  walks  lined  with  statues,  which  resembled  a  troop 
of  white  phantoms,  the  gentle  waving  of  the  branches 
as  the  evening  breeze  stirred  their  leaves,  with  that 
feeling  of  awe  and  solemnity  generally  attendant  upon 
the  midnight  hour,  awoke  in  our  minds  ideas  more  suit- 
able to  our  situation.  We  ceased  speaking,  and  walked 
slowly  down  the  walk  past  the  basin  of  the  dragon,  in 
order,  by  crossing  the  park,  to  reach  the  chateau  de  Tri- 
anon. 

Fortune  favoured  us,  for  we  met  only  one  guard  in 
the  park ;  this  man  having  recognised  us  as  we  drew  near, 
saluted  us,  and  was  about  to  retire,  when  my  brother- 
in-law  called  him  back  and  desired  him  to  take  our  key, 
and  open  with  it  the  nearest  gates  to  the  place  which 
we  wished  to  go  to.  He  also  commanded  him  to  await 
our  return.  The  soldier  was  accustomed  to  these  noc- 
turnal excursions  even  on  the  part  of  the  most  scrupu- 
lous and  correct  gentlemen  and  ladies  of  the  court. 


392  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

He,  therefore,  assured  us  of  his  punctuality,  and  opened 
for  us  a  great  iron  gate,  which  it  would  have  cost  my 
brother-in-law  much  trouble  to  have  turned  upon  its 
hinges. 

The  nearer  we  approached  the  end  of  our  journey,  the 
more  fully  did  our  minds  become  impressed  with  new 
and  painful  disquietudes.  At  length,  we  reached  the 
place  of  our  destination. 

My  brother-in-law  desired  he  might  be  announced  but 
said  nothing  of  who  I  was.  We  were  expected,  for  a 
Swiss  belonging  to  the  palace  conducted  us  to  a  chamber 
at  one  end  of  the  chateau,  where,  stretched  on  a  bed  of 
loathsome  disease,  was  the  creature  who,  but  a  few  hours 
before,  had  been  deemed  worthy  the  embraces  of  a 
powerful  monarch.  Beside  her  were  an  elderly  female, 
her  mother,  and  an  aged  priest,  who  had  been  likewise 
summoned  by  the  unfortunate  girl,  and  her  brother,  a 
young  man  of  about  twenty-four  years  of  age,  with  an 
eye  of  fire,  and  a  frame  of  Herculean  power.  He  was 
sitting  with  his  back  turned  towards  the  door ;  the  mother, 
half  reclining  on  the  bed,  held  in  her  hand  a  handker- 
chief steeped  in  her  tears,  while  the  ecclesiastic  read 
prayers  to  them  from  a  book  which  he  held.  A  nurse, 
whom  we  had  not  before  perceived,  answered  the  call 
of  the  Swiss,  and  inquired  of  him  what  he  wanted. 

<(I  want  nothing,  myself,*  answered  he,  <(but  here  is 
comte  Jean  du  Barry  with  a  lady  from  Versailles;  they 
say  they  come  at  the  request  of  mademoiselle  Anne.w 

We  were  now  on  the  threshold  of  the  door,  and  the 
nurse,  crossing  the  chamber,  spoke  to  the  mother,  who 
hastily  rose,  while  the  priest  discontinued  his  prayers. 
The  mother  looked  at  us,  then  whispered  some  words  to 
her  daughter.  The  patient  stirred  in  her  bed,  and  the 
nurse  returning  to  us,  said  to  comte  Jean  that  he  might 
approach  the  bed  of  the  invalid. 

He  advanced  and  I  followed  him,  although  the  noisome 
effluvia  with  which  the  air  was  loaded  produced  a  sick- 
ness I  scarcely  could  surmount.  The  gloom  of  the  place 
was  still  further  increased  by  the  dim  light  of  two  wax 
candles  placed  in  a  nook  of  the  room. 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  393 

The  priest,  having  recognised  my  brother-in-law,  and 
suspecting  doubtless  who  I  was,  was  preparing  to  with- 
draw, but  the  sick  girl  made  signs  for  him  to  remain. 
He  obeyed,  but  removing  to  a  distance,  he  took  his  place 
beside  the  young  man,  who,  understanding  only  that 
strangers  had  arrived,  rose  from  his  seat  and  displayed 
his  tall  gigantic  height  to  the  fullest  advantage. 


CHAPTER    XLI. 

Interview  with  the  joiner's  daughter  —  Consultation  of  the  physicians 
respecting  the  king  —  The  small -pox  declares  itself  —  The  comte  de 
Muy —  The  princesses  —  Extreme  sensibility  of  madame  de  Mirepoix 
—  The  king  is  kept  in  ignorance  of  his  real  condition  —  The  arch- 
bishop of  Paris  visits  Versailles. 

THE  gloomy  and  mysterious  air  scattered  over  the  group 
which  presented  itself  to  our  eyes  filled  us  with 
desponding  thoughts.  There  appeared  throughout 
the  party  a  kind  of  concentrated  grief  and  silent  despair 
which  struck  us  with  terror.  We  remained  motionless  in 
the  same  spot  without  any  persons  quitting  their  fixed 
attitude  to  offer  us  a  seat.  After  some  minutes  of  a  deep 
silence,  which  I  durst  not  interrupt  any  more  than  comte 
Jean,  whose  accustomed  hardihood  seemed  effectually 
checked,  the  suffering  girl  raised  herself  in  her  bed,  and 
in  a  hollow  voice  exclaimed, 

(<  Comtesse  du  Barry,  what  brings  you  here  ?  * 

The  sound  of  her  hoarse  and  grating  voice  made  me 
start,  spite  of  myself. 

<(  My  poor  child, w  answered  I,  tenderly,  <(  I  come  to  see 
you  at  your  request." 

(<Yes,  yes,*  replied  she,  bursting  into  a  frightful  fit  of 
laughter,  (<  I  wished  to  see  you  to  thank  you  for  my  dis- 
honour, and  for  the  perdition  into  which  you  have  in- 
volved me.8 

w  My  daughter, >J  said  the  priest,  approaching  her,  <(  is 
this  what  you  promised  me  ? w 

(<And  what  did  I  promise  to  God  when  I  vowed  to 
hold  myself  chaste  and  spotless  ?  Perjured  wretch  that  I 
am,  I  have  sold  my  honour  for  paltry  gold;  wheedled  by 
(394) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  395 

the  deceitful  flattery  of  that  man  who  stands  before  me, 
I  joined  his  infamous  companion  in  the  path  of  guilt  and 
shame.  But  the  just  vengeance  of  heaven  has  overtaken 
me,  and  I  am  rightly  punished.* 

Whether  this  language  was  the  result  of  a  previously 
studied  lesson  I  know  not,  but  it  was  ill-calculated  to 
raise  my  failing  spirits. 

<(  My  child,  my  beloved  child !  *  exclaimed  the  weeping 
mother,  (<  fear  not,  God  is  merciful  and  will  accept  your 
sincere  abhorrence  of  your  fault  I  have  this  day  offered 
in  your  name  a  fine  wax  taper  to  your  patroness,  St. 
Anne,  who  will,  no  doubt,  intercede  for  you.* 

*No,  no!*  replied  the  unhappy  girl;  "there  is  no 
longer  any  hope  for  me;  and  the  torments  I  now  suffer 
are  but  the  preludes  to  those  which  I  am  doomed  to  en- 
dure everlastingly.* 

This  singular  scene  almost  convulsed  me  with  agitation. 
I  seized  the  arm  of  my  brother-in-law  with  the  intention 
of  escaping  from  so  miserable  a  spot;  the  invalid  per- 
ceived my  design  and  vehemently  exclaimed, 

(<  Stay,  comtesse  du  Barry ;  I  have  not  yet  finished  with 
you,  I  have  not  yet  announced  the  full  revenge  I  shall 
take  for  your  share  in  my  present  hopeless  condition; 
your  infamous  exaltation  draws  to  a  close,  the  same  poi- 
son which  is  destroying  me,  circulates  in  the  veins  of  him 
you  have  too  long  governed ;  but  your  reign  is  at  an  end. 
He  will  soon  quit  his  earthly  crown,  and  my  hand  strikes 
the  blow  which  sends  him  hence.  But  still,  dying  a  vic- 
tim to  a  cruel  and  loathsome  complaint,  I  go  to  my 
grave  triumphing  over  my  haughty  rival,  forel  shall  die 
the  last  possessor  of  the  king's  affections.  Heavens! 
what  agonies  are  these  ?  *  cried  she ;  then,  after  a  short 
silence,  she  continued,  extending  to  me  her  arms  hideous 
with  the  leprous  blotches  of  her  disgusting  malady,  <(yes, 
you  have  been  my  destruction;  your  accursed  example 
led  me  to  sell  myself  for  the  wages  of  infamy,  and  to 
the  villainous  artifices  of  the  man  who  brought  you  here 
I  owe  all  my  sufferings.  I  am  dying  more  young,  more 
beautiful,  more  beloved  than  you;  I  am  hurried  to  an 
untimely  end.  God  of  heaven !  die !  did  I  say  die  ?  I 


396  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

cannot,  will  not — Mother,  save  your  child!  —  Brother, 
help  me,  save  me !  * 

<(  My  daughter,  my  darling  child '  *  cried  the  despairing 
mother,  wringing  her  hands  and  weeping  bitterly. 

<(  My  dearest  sister  Anne,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ? "  in- 
quired the  young  man,  whose  stern  features  were  melted 
into  mere  womanish  tenderness. 

w  Daughter, w  interrupted  the  priest,  <(  God  is  good ;  he 
can  and  will  forgive  you  if  you  heartily  turn  to  him, 
with  a  sincere  desire  to  atone  for  your  fault." 

All  this  took  place  in  less  time  than  it  has  taken  in 
the  recital.  My  brother-in-law  seemed  completely  de- 
prived of  his  usual  self-possession  by  this  burst  of  fright- 
ful raving;  his  feet  appeared  rooted  to  the  floor  of  the 
chamber;  his  colour  changed  from  white  to  red,  and  a 
cold  perspiration  covered  his  brows.  For  my  own  part, 
I  was  moved  beyond  description;  but  my  faculties  seemed 
spell-bound,  and  when  I  strove  to  speak,  my  tongue 
cleaved  to  my  mouth. 

The  delirium  of  poor  Anne  continued  for  some  time 
to  find  utterance,  either  by  convulsive  gesticulation,  half- 
uttered  expressions,  and,  occasionally,  loud  and  vehement 
imprecations.  At  length,  quite  exhausted  with  her  vio- 
lence, which  required  all  the  efforts  of  her  brother  to 
subdue  by  positive  force,  she  sunk  into  a  state  of  insensi- 
bility. The  priest,  on  his  knees,  implored  in  a  loud  voice 
the  mercy  of  Providence  for  the  king  and  all  his  sub- 
jects. Had  any  person  conceived  the  design  of  working 
on  my  fears  so  far  as  to  induce  me  to  abandon  a  life  at 
court,  they*  could  not  have  succeeded  more  entirely  than 
by  exhibiting  to  me  the  scene  I  have  been  describing. 
Had  not  many  contending  ideas  enabled  me  to  bear  up 
under  all  I  saw  and  heard,  my  senses  must  have  for- 
saken me;  under  common  circumstances,  the  aspect  of 
the  brother  alone  would  have  terrified  me  exceedingly; 
and  even  now,  I  cannot  recollect  without  a  shudder,  the 
looks  of  dark  and  sinister  meaning  he  alternately  directed 
at  me  and  at  comte  Jean.  At  this  moment,  the  doctor 
who  had  the  charge  of  the  unhappy  girl  arrived.  The 
warmth  and  eagerness  of  manner  with  which  he  addressed 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  397 

me  directly  he  perceived  my  presence,  might  have  proved 
to  all  around  that  I  was  not  the  hateful  creature  I  had 
been  described.  This  well-timed  interruption  restored 
me  to  the  use  of  my  faculties,  and  repulsing  the  well- 
meant  attentions  of  my  medical  friend,  I  exclaimed, 
*  Do  not  heed  me,  I  conjure  you;  I  am  only  temporarily 
indisposed.  But  hasten  to  that  poor  girl  whose  dangerous 
state  requires  all  your  care.* 

My  brother-in-law,  recovering  himself  by  a  strong  ef- 
fort, profited  by  the  present  opportunity  to  remove  me 
into  another  apartment,  the  pure  air  of  which  contrib- 
uted to  cool  my  fevered  brain;  but  my  trembling  limbs 
refused  to  support  me,  and  it  was  necessary  to  apply 
strong  restoratives  ere  I  was  sufficiently  recovered  to 
quit  the  fatal  spot.  At  Trianon,  as  well  as  at  Versailles, 
I  was  considered  absolute  mistress;  those  of  the  royal 
household,  who  were  aware  of  my  being  at  the  former, 
earnestly  solicited  me  to  retire  to  the  chamber  I  had  oc- 
cupied on  the  preceding  night,  but  to  this  arrangement 
the  comte  and  myself  were  equally  opposed.  A  sedan 
chair  was  therefore  procured,  in  which  I  was  rapidly 
transported  back  to  Versailles. 

You  may  easily  conceive  in  what  a  state  I  arrived 
there.  My  good  Henriette  was  greatly  alarmed,  and  im- 
mediately summoned  Bordeu,  who,  not  venturing  to  bleed 
me,  contented  himself  with  administering  some  cordials 
which  revived  me  in  some  degree.  But  the  events  of  the 
last  few  hours  seemed  indelibly  fixed  in  my  mind;  and  I 
heard,  almost  with  indifference,  the  bulletin  issued  re- 
specting the  state  of  the  king's  health  during  the  fatal 
night  which  had  just  passed.  One  object  alone  engrossed 
my  thoughts;  my  eyes  seemed  still  to  behold  the  misera- 
ble girl  stretched  on  her  dying  bed,  whose  ravings  of 
despair  and  threatening  words  yet  rung  in  my  ears,  and 
produced  a  fresh  chill  of  horror,  as  with  painful  tenacity 
my  mind  dwelt  upon  them  to  the  utter  exclusion  of  every 
other  consideration.  The  unfortunate  creature  expired  on 
the  third  day,  a  victim  to  the  rapid  progress  of  the  most 
virulent  species  of  small-pox.  She  died  more  calmly  and 
resigned  than  I  had  seen  her.  For  my  own  part,  I  freely 


398  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

pardoned  her  injustice  towards  myself,  and  sincerely  for- 
give the  priest  if  he  (as  I  have  been  told)  excited  her 
bitterness  against  me. 

The  severe  shock  I  had  experienced  might  have  ter- 
minated fatally  for  me,  had  not  my  thoughts  been  com- 
pelled to'  rouse  themselves  for  the  contemplation  of  the 
alarming  prospect  before  me.  It  was  more  than  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning  when  I  returned  to  the  chateau, 
and  at  nine  I  rose  again  without  having  obtained  the 
least  repose.  The  king  had  inquired  for  me  several 
times.  I  instantly  went  to  him,  and  my  languid  frame, 
pale  countenance  and  heavy  eyes,  all  which  he  took  as 
the  consequences  of  my  concern  for  his  indisposition, 
appeared  greatly  to  affect  him;  and  he  sought  to  com- 
fort me  by  the  assurance  of  his  being  considerably  better. 
This  was  far  from  being  true,  but  he  was  far  from  suspect- 
ing the  nature  of  the  malady  to  which  his  frame  was 
about  to  become  a  prey.  The  physicians  had  now  pro- 
nounced with  certainty  on  the  subject,  nor  was  it  possible 
to  make  any  mystery  of  it  with  me,  who  had  seen  Anne 
on  her  sick-bed. 

In  common  with  all  who  knew  the  real  nature  of  the 
complaint,  I  sought  to  conceal  it  from  the  king,  and  in 
this  deception  the  physicians  themselves  concurred.  In 
the  course  of  the  morning  a  consultation  took  place ;  when 
called  upon  for  their  opinion,  each  of  them  endeavoured 
to  evade  a  direct  answer,  disguising  the  name  of  his 
majesty's  disease  under  the  appellation  of  a  cutaneous 
eruption,  chicken-pox,  etc.,  etc.,  none  daring  to  give  it  its 
true  denomination.  Bordeu  and  Lemonnier  pursued  this 
cautious  plan,  but  La  Martiniere,  who  had  first  of  all  pro- 
nounced his  decision  on  the  subject,  impatient  of  so  much 
circumlocution  on  the  part  of  those  around  him,  could 
no  longer  repress  his  indignation. 

<(  How  is  this,  gentlemen ! w  exclaimed  he,  <(  is  science 
at  a  standstill  with  you?  Surely,  you  cannot  be  in  any 
doubt  on  the  subject  of  the  king's  illness.  His  majesty 
has  the  small-pox,  with  a  complication  of  other  diseases 
equally  dangerous,  and  I  look  upon  him  as  a  dead 
man. w 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  399 

w  Monsieur  de  la  Martiniere,*  cried  the  due  de  Duras, 
who,  in  quality  of  his  office  of  first  gentleman  of  the  bed- 
chamber, was  present  at  this  conference,  (<  allow  me  to 
remind  you  that  you  are  expressing  yourself  very  impru- 
dently. * 

(<  Due  de  Duras, *  replied  the  abrupt  La  Martiniere, 
<(my  business  is  not  to  flatter  the  king,  but  to  tell  him 
the  truth  with  regard  to  his  health.  None  of  the  medical 
gentlemen  present  can  deny  the  truth  of  what  I  have  as- 
serted ;  they  are  all  of  my  opinion,  although  I  alone  have 
the  courage  to  act  with  that  candour  which  my  sense  of 
honour  dictates.* 

The  unbroken  silence  preserved  by  those  who  heard 
this  address,  clearly  proved  the  truth  of  all  La  Martiniere 
advanced.  The  due  de  Duras  was  but  too  fully  con- 
vinced of  the  justice  of  his  opinion. 

"The  king  is  then  past  all  hope,*  repeated  he,  wand 
what  remains  to.be  done?* 

(<To  watch  over  him,  and  administer  every  aid  and  re- 
lief which  art  suggests,*  was  the  brief  reply  of  La  Mar- 
tiniere. 

The  different  physicians,  when  separately  questioned, 
hesitated  no  longer  to  express  their  concurrence  in  the 
opinion  that  his  majesty's  case  was  entirely  hopeless,  un- 
less, indeed,  some  crisis,  which  human  foresight  could 
not  anticipate,  should  arise  in  his  favour. 

This  opinion  changed  the  moral  face  of  the  chateau. 
The  due  de  Duras,  who  had  not  previously  suspected 
even  the  existence  of  danger,  began  to  feel  how  weighty 
a  burthen  reposed  on  his  shoulders;  he  recommended  to 
the  medical  attendants  the  utmost  caution  and  silence, 
pointing  out,  at  the  same  time,  all  the  ill  consequences 
which  might  arise,  were  any  imprudent  or  sudden  ex- 
planation of  his  real  malady  made  to  the  august  sufferer. 
Unable  to  attend  to  everything  himself,  and  not  inclined 
to  depend  upon  his  son,  whose  natural  propensity  he  was 
fully  aware  of,  he  recalled  to  his  recollection  that  the 
comte  de  Muy,  the  sincere  and  attached  friend  of  the 
dauphin,  son  to  Louis  XV.,  was  then  in  Versailles.  He 
immediately  sought  him  out  in  the  apartments  he  occu- 


400  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

pied  in  the  chateau,  and  communicated  to  him  the  result 
of  the  consultation  respecting  the  king's  illness. 

The  comte  de  Muy  was  one  of  those  rare  characters 
reserved  by  Providence  for  the  happiness  of  a  state, 
when  kings  are  wise  enough  to  employ  them.  He  thought 
not  of  personal  interest  or  advantage,  but  dictated  to  the 
duke  the  precise  line  of  conduct  he  himself  would  have 
pursued  under  similar  circumstances. 

<(  The  first  thing  to  be  done,  *  said  he,  <(  is  to  remem- 
ber that  the  king  is  a  Christian,  and  to  conform  in  every 
respect  to  the  customs  of  his  predecessors.  You  are 
aware,  my  lord  duke,  that  directly  any  member  of  the 
royal  family  is  attacked  by  the  small-pox,  he  ought  im- 
mediately to  receive  extreme  unction ;  you  will,  therefore, 
make  the  necessary  arrangements,  and  apprize  those 
whose  duty  it  becomes  to  administer  it. w 

tt  This  is,  indeed,  an  unpleasant  commission, }>  replied 
the  duke;  (<to  administer  extreme  unction  to  his  maj- 
esty, is  to  announce  to  him  cruelly  and  abruptly  that  his 
last  hour  has  arrived,  and  to  bid  him  prepare  for  death.  * 

<(The  duty  is  nevertheless  imperative,8  answered  the 
comte  de  Muy,  <(  and  you  incur  no  slight  responsibility 
by  neglecting  it.* 

The  consequence  of  this  conversation  was,  that  the  duke 
sent  off  two  couriers  immediately,  one  to  madame  Louise, 
and  the  other  to  the  archbishop  of  Paris.  He  also  ap- 
prized the  ministers  of  the  result  of  the  consultation 
which  had  taken  place,  whilst  the  comte  de  Muy  took 
upon  himself  the  painful  office  of  acquainting  the  dau- 
phin with  the  dangerous  state  of  his  grandfather.  This 
young  prince,  whose  first  impulses  were  always  amiable, 
immediately  burst  into  tears;  the  dauphiness  endeavoured 
to  console  him.  But  from  that  moment  her  royal  high- 
ness appeared  to  show  by  her  lofty  and  dignified  bearing, 
her  consciousness  of  the  fresh  importance  she  had  neces- 
sarily acquired  in  the  eyes  of  the  nation.  Meanwhile, 
the  dauphin  hastened  to  the  sick  room  of  his  beloved 
relative,  anxious  to  bestow  upon  him  the  cares  and  at- 
tentions of  a  son;  but  in  the  anteroom  his  progress  was 
stopped  by  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere,  who  informed  him, 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  401 

that  the  interests  of  the  throne  would  not  permit  his 
royal  highness  to  endanger  his  life  by  inhaling  the  con- 
tagious atmosphere  of  a  room  loaded  with  the  venom  of 
the  small-pox.  He  adjured  him,  in  the  name  of  the  king 
and  his  country,  not  to  risk  such  fearful  chances.  The 
lords  in  attendance,  who  did  not  partake  the  heroism  of 
the  young  prince,  added  their  entreaties  to  those  of  le 
petit  saint,  and  succeeded,  at  length,  in  prevailing  upon 
him  to  return  to  his  apartments,  to  the  great  joy  of  Marie 
Antoinette,  who  could  not  endure  the  prospect  of  being 
separated  from  her  husband  at  so  important  a  juncture. 

No  sooner  had  the  princesses  learned  the  danger  of 
their  august  parent,  than  without  an  instant's  hesitation 
they  hurried  to  him.  I  was  in  his  chamber  when  they 
arrived;  they  saluted  me  with  great  gentleness  and  affa- 
bility. When  the  king  saw  them,  he  inquired  what  had 
brought  them  thither  at  so  unusual  an  hour. 

"We  are  come  to  see  you,  my  dearest  father,®  replied 
madame  Adelaide ;  (<  we  have  heard  of  your  indisposition, 
and  trifling  as  it  is  said  to  be,  we  could  not  rest  without 
satisfying  our  anxious  wish  to  know  how  you  found  your- 
self. » 

The  other  sisters  expressed  themselves  in  similar  terms. 

"It  is  all  very  well,  my  children, B  said  Louis  XV., 
with  a  pleasing  smile,  "  and  you  are  all  three  very  excel- 
lent girls,  but  I  would  rather  you  should  keep  away  from 
this  close  room ;  it  can  do  you  no  good,  and  I  promise  to 
let  you  know  if  I  find  myself  getting  any  worse. }> 

After  a  slight  resistance  the  princesses  feigned  an 
obedience  to  his  will ;  but,  in  reality,  they  merely  retired 
into  an  adjoining  chamber,  concealed  from  the  sight  of 
their  parent,  where  they  remained,  until  the  moment 
when  they  undertook  the  charge  of  the  patient.  Their 
heroic  devotion  was  the  admiration  of  all  France  and 
Europe. 

Much  as  their  presence  constrained  me,  I  still  kept  my 
place  beside  the  sick-bed  of  his  majesty,  who  would  not 
suffer  me  to  leave  him  for  a  minute. 

At  an  early  hour  the  mare'chale  de  Mirepoix  returned, 
according  to  her  promise.  I  met  her  in  the  corridor  as  I 
26 


402  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

was  passing  along  on  my  way  to  the  king's  apartment; 
her  face  was  full  of  cheerful  smiles. 

<(  How  greatly  am  I  obliged  to  you  for  your  prompt 
succour,"  said  she,  without  even  inquiring  after  my  health 
or  that  of  the  king.  (<  Do  you  know,  I  was  but  just  in 
time ;  ten  minutes  later,  and  I  should  have  been  refused 
payment  for  your  cheque.  M.  de  Laborde,  who  was  so 
devotedly  your  friend  only  yesterday,  counted  out  to  me 
the  glittering  coin  I  was  so  anxious  to  obtain.  He  even 
accompanied  me  to  my  carriage,  when  behold,  just  at  the 
moment,  when,  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  he  was  most 
gallantly  bowing,  and  wishing  me  a  pleasant  journey,  a 
courier  arrived  from  Versailles  bringing  him  the  news 
of  the  king's  illness.  He  looked  so  overwhelmed  with 
consternation  and  alarm,  that  I  could  not  prevent  myself 
from  bursting  into  a  hearty  fit  of  laughter,  nor  has  my 
gaiety  forsaken  me  up  to  the  present  moment.8 

<(You  are  very  fortunate,"  said  I,  <(  to  be  enabled  thus 
to  preserve  your  good  spirits." 

<(  My  dear  creature,  I  would  fain  cheat  time  of  some 
of  his  claims  upon  me.  But  now  I  think  of  it,  what  is 
the  matter  since  I  was  here  ?  Is  the  king  worse,  and  what 
is  this  I  hear  whispered  abroad  of  the  small -pox  ?  * 

<(Alas,  madam,"  answered  I,  much  hurt  at  the  insensi- 
bility she  displayed,  (<  we  run  but  too  great  danger  of 
losing  our  friend  and  benefactor  for  ever." 

(<  Dear  me,  how  very  shocking !  But  what  has  he  settled 
on  you  ?  What  have  you  asked  him  for  ?  " 

<(  Nothing !  "  replied  I,  coolly. 

<(  Nothing !  very  admirable,  indeed ;  but,  my  good  soul, 
these  fine  sentiments  sometimes  leave  people  to  eat  the 
bread  of  charity.  So,  then,  you  have  not  followed  my 
advice.  Once  more,  I  repeat,  lose  not  the  present  oppor- 
tunity, and,  in  your  place,  I  would  set  about  securing 
my  own  interest  without  one  instant's  delay." 

*  That  I  could  not  do,  madam,"  said  I;  (<  it  is  wholly 
foreign  to  my  nature  to  take  advantage  of  the  weakness 
of  a  dying  man." 

<(  Dying  man !  "  repeated  the  mare'chale  incredulously, 
(<come,  come,  he  is  not  dead  yet;  and  whilst  there  is  life 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  403 

there  is  hope ;  and  I  suppose  you  have  carried  your  ideas 
of  disinterestedness  so  far  as  to  omit  mentioning  your 
friends,  likewise.  You  will  never  have  any  worldly  sense, 
I  believe.  My  dear  soul,*  said  she,  stooping  down  and 
whispering  in  my  ear,  (<  you  are  surrounded  by  a  set  of 
selfish  wretches,  who  care  nothing  for  you  unless  you 
can  forward  their  interests." 

<(  I  see  it,  I  know  it, "  exclaimed  I  impatiently ;  *  but 
though  I  beg  my  bread,  I  will  not  importune  the  king." 

<(  As  you  please, "  cried  madame  de  Mirepoix,  <(  pray  do 
not  let  me  disturb  your  intentions.  Silly  woman  that 
you  are,  leave  others  to  act  the  sublime  and  grand,  your 
part  should  be  that  of  a  reasonable  creature.  Look  at 
myself,  suppose  I  had  not  seized  the  ball  at  the  bound." 

<(  You  were  born  at  Versailles, "  answered  I,  smiling  in 
spite  of  myself. 

«  True,  and  I  confess  that  with  me  the  greatest  of  all  sense 
is  common  sense,  which  produces  that  instinctive  feeling 
of  self-preservation  implanted  even  in  animals.  But  is 
the  king  indeed  so  very  ill  ? " 

(<  He  is,  indeed,  dangerously  ill.  " 

(<  I  am  very  sorry, "  answered  she,  <(  his  majesty  and 
myself  were  such  old  friends  and  companions;  but  things 
will  now  be  very  different,  and  we  shall  soon  see  the 
court  filled  with  new  faces,  whilst  you  and  I,  my  poor 
countess,  may  hide  our  diminished  heads.  A  set  of 
hungry  wretches  will  drive  us  away  from  the  princely 
banquet  at  which  we  have  so  long  regaled,  and  scarcely 
will  their  eagerness  leave  us  a  few  scattered  crumbs  — 
how  dreadful!  Yes,  I  repeat  that  for  many  reasons,  we 
shall  have  just  cause  for  regretting  the  late  king." 

"The  late  king!"  exclaimed  I.  "His  majesty  is  not 
yet  dead,  madame  la  mare"chale. " 

(<  I  know  that,  but  he  will  die ;  and  by  speaking  of  the 
event  as  if  it  had  already  taken  place,  we  prepare  our 
minds  to  meet  the  blow  with  greater  resignation  when  it 
does  fall.  I  am  much  concerned,  I  can  assure  you;  but 
let  us  quit  the  close  confined  air  of  this  corridor,  and  go 
where  we  may  breathe  a  purer  atmosphere." 

She   took    me    by   the    arm   with   a  greater    familiarity 


404  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

than  she  had  ever  before  assumed,  and  led  the  way  to 
my  chamber,  where  I  found  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere  await- 
ing me,  to  request  I  would  return  to  the  king,  who  had 
asked  for  me  more  than  once.  This  consummate  hypo- 
crite seized  the  present  opportunity  of  renewing  his  as- 
surances of  an  unalterable  attachment  to  me,  vowing  an 
eternal  friendship.  I  was  weak  enough  to  believe  him, 
and  when  I  gave  him  my  hand  in  token  of  reconciliation, 
I  espied  the  mare'chale  standing  behind  him,  making  sig- 
nals to  me  to  distrust  his  professions. 

I  know  not  the  reason  of  this  conduct  on  the  part  of 
the  due  de  la  Vrilliere,  but  I  can  only  suppose  it  origi- 
nated in  his  considering  the  king  in  less  danger  than  he 
was  said  to  be;  however,  I  suffered  him  to  lead  me  to 
the  chamber  of  the  invalid.  When  Louis  XV.  saw  me 
return,  he  inquired  why  I  had  quitted  him  ?  I  replied, 
because  I  was  fearful  of  wearying  him;  upon  which  he 
assured  me,  that  he  only  felt  easy  and  comfortable  so 
long  as  I  was  with  him. 

w  But,  perhaps,  there  is  some  contagion  in  my  present 
complaint  ? w  exclaimed  he,  as  though  labouring  under 
some  painful  idea. 

(<  Certainly  not, w  replied  I ;  <(  it  is  but  a  temporary  erup- 
tion of  the  skin,  which  will,  no  doubt,  carry  off  the  fever 
you  have  suffered  with.* 

(<  I  feared  it  was  of  a  more  dangerous  nature,  *  an- 
swered the  king. 

"You  torment  yourself  needlessly,  sire,*  said  I;  "  why 
should  you  thus  create  phantoms  for  your  own  annoyance 
and  alarm  ?  Tranquillize  yourself,  and  leave  the  task  of 
curing  you  to  us.* 

I  easily  penetrated  the  real  import  of  his  words;  he 
evidently  suspected  the  truth,  and  was  filled  with  the 
most  cruel  dread  of  having  his  suspicions  confirmed. 
During  the  whole  of  this  day  he  continued  in  the  same 
state  of  uncertainty;  the  strictest  watch  was  set  around 
him  that  no  imprudent  confession  should  reveal  to  him 
the  real  nature  of  his  situation.  I  continued  sitting  be- 
side him  in  a  state  of  great  constraint,  from  the  knowl- 
edge of  my  being  closely  observed  by  the  princesses,  of 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  405 

whose  vicinity  we  durst  not  inform  him,  in  the  fear  of 
exciting  his  fears  still  more. 

The  courier,  who  had  been  despatched  to  madame 
Louise,  returned,  bringing  a  letter  from  that  princess  to 
her  sisters,  under  cover  to  madame  Adelaide,  in  which 
she  implored  of  them  not  to  suffer  any  consideration  to 
prevent  their  immediately  acquainting  their  father  with 
the  dangerous  condition  he  was  in.  The  duty,  she  added, 
was  imperative,  and  the  greatest  calamity  that  could  be- 
fall them,  would  be  to  see  this  dearly  loved  parent  expire 
in  a  state  of  sinful  indifference  as  to  his  spiritual  wel- 
fare. 

The  august  recluse,  detached  from  all  sublunary  con- 
siderations, saw  nothing  but  the  glorious  hereafter,  where 
she  would  fain  join  company  with  all  her  beloved  friends 
and  connexions  of  this  world. 

The  archbishop  of  Paris,  M.  de  Beaumont,  a  prelate 
highly  esteemed  for  his  many  excellent  private  qualities, 
but  who  had  frequently  embarrassed  the  king  by  his  per- 
tinacity, did  not  forget  him  on  this  occasion;  for  no 
sooner  did  the  account  of  his  majesty's  illness  reach  him, 
than,  although  suffering  with  a  most  painful  complaint, 
he  hastened  to  Versailles,  where  his  presence  embarrassed 
every  one,  particularly  the  grand  almoner,  who,  a  better 
courtier  than  priest,  was  excessively  careful  never  to  give 
offence  to  any  person,  even  though  the  king's  salvation 
depended  upon  it;  he,  therefore,  kept  his  apartment, 
giving  it  out  that  he  was  indisposed,  and  even  took  to  his 
bed,  the  better  to  avoid  any  disagreeable  or  inconvenient 
request.  The  sight  of  the  archbishop  of  Paris  was  far 
from  being  agreeable  to  him.  This  prelate  went  first  in 
search  of  the  princesses  who  were  not  to  be  seen  on 
account  of  their  being  with  their  father.  A  message  was 
despatched  to  them,  and  mesdames  Adelaide  and  Sophie, 
after  having  a  long  conference  with  him,  by  his  advice, 
summoned  the  bishops  of  Meaux,  Goss,  and  de  Senlis, 
and  held  a  species  of  council,  in  which  it  was  unanimously 
agreed  that  nothing  ought  to  prevent  their  entering  upon 
an  explanation  with  the  king,  and  offering  him  spiritual 
succour. 


406  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

Who  was  to  undertake  the  delicate  commission,  became 
the  next  point  to  consider.  M.  de  Roquelaire  declined, 
not  wishing,  as  he  said,  to  infringe  upon  the  rights  of 
the  grand  almoner,  who  was  now  at  Versailles.  M.  de  la 
Roche  Aymon  was  therefore  sent  for,  requesting  his  im- 
mediate attendance.  Never  did  invitation  arrive  more 
mal  ct  propos,  or  more  cruelly  disturb  any  manoeuvring  soul. 
However,  to  refuse  was  impossible,  and  the  cardinal  ar- 
rived, execrating  the  zeal  of  his  reverend  brother  of  Paris ; 
who,  after  having  explained  the  state  of  affairs  to  him, 
informed  him  that  he  was  sent  for  for  the  purpose  of 
discharging  his  office  by  preparing  the  king  for  confes- 
sion. 

The  grand  almoner  replied,  that  the  sacred  duty  by  no 
means  belonged  to  him;  that  his  place  at  court  was  of  a 
very  different  nature,  and  had  nothing  at  all  to  do  with 
directing  the  king's  conscience.  His  majesty,  he  said,  had 
a  confessor,  who  ought  to  be  sent  for,  and  the  very  sight 
of  him  in  the  royal  chamber  would  be  sufficient  to  ap- 
prize the  illustrious  invalid  of  the  motives  which  brought 
him  thither.  In  a  word,  the  grand  almoner  got  rid  of 
the  affair,  by  saying,  <(that,  as  it  was  one  of  the  utmost 
importance,  it  would  be  necessary  to  confer  with  his 
royal  highness,  the  dauphin,  respecting  it." 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

First  proceedings  of  the  council — The  dauphin  receives  the  prelates 
with  great  coolness  —  Situation  of  the  archbishop  of  Paris  —  Riche- 
lieu evades  the  project  for  confessing  the  king  —  The  friends  of 
madame  du  Barry  come  forward  —  The  English  physician — The 
abb6  Terray  —  Interview  with  the  prince  de  Soubise  —  The  prince 
and  the  courtiers — La  Martiniere  informs  the  king  of  the  true 
nature  of  his  complaint  —  Consequences  of  this  disclosure. 


T 


HE  different  members  of  this  concile  impromptu  de- 
clared themselves  in  favour  of  this,  ad  vice,  much  to 
the  grief  and  chagrin  of  the  princess  Adelaide.  She 
easily  perceived  by  this  proposition  that  the  court  would 
very  shortly  change  masters,  and  could  she  hope  to  pre- 
serve the  same  influence  during  the  reign  of  her  nephew 
she  had  managed  to  obtain  whilst  her  father  held  the 
sceptre  ?  However,  she  made  no  opposition  to  the  reso- 
lution of  the  prelates,  who  forthwith  proceeded  to  the 
dauphin,  who  received  them  with  considerable  coolness. 
As  yet,  but  ill-assured  in  the  new  part  he  had  to  play, 
the  prince  showed  himself  fearful  and  embarrassed.  The 
dauphiness  would  willingly  have  advised  him,  but  that 
prudence  would  not  permit  her  to  do,  so  that  the  dauphin, 
left  wholly  to  himself,  knew  not  on  what  to  determine. 

This  was  precisely  what  the  grand  almoner  had  hoped 
and  expected,  and  he  laughed  in  his  sleeve  at  the  useless 
trouble  taken  by  the  archbishop;  and  whilst  he  openly 
affected  to  promote  his  desires  as  much  as  was  in  his 
power,  he  secretly  took  measures  to  prevent  their  suc- 
cess. M.  de  Beaumont,  who  was  of  a  most  open  and  up- 
right nature,  was  far  from  suspecting  these  intrigues; 
indeed,  his  simple  and  pious  character  but  ill-qualified  him 
for  the  corrupt  and  deceitful  atmosphere  of  a  court,  es- 
pecially such  a  one  as  Versailles.  His  situation  now  be- 


4o8  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

came  one  of  difficulty ;  abandoned  by  the  bishops  and  the 
grand  almoner,  disappointed  in  his  hopes  of  finding  a 
supporter  in  the  dauphin,  what  could  he  do  alone  with 
the  princesses,  who,  in  their  dread  of  causing  an  emo- 
tion, which  might  be  fatal  to  their  parent,  knew  not  what 
to  resolve  upon.  As  a  last  resource,  they  summoned  the 
abbe"  Mandaux,  the  king's  confessor.  The  prelate  excited 
his  zeal  in  all  its  fervour,  and  this  simple  and  obscure 
priest  determined  to  undertake  that  which  many  more 
eminent  personages  had  shrunk  from  attempting. 

He  therefore  sought  admittance  into  the  chamber  of 
the  king,  where  he  found  the  dues  de  Duras  and  de  Rich- 
elieu, to  whom  he  communicated  the  mission  upon  which 
he  was  come. 

At  this  declaration,  the  consequences  of  which  he 
plainly  foresaw,  the  due  de  Duras  hesitated  to  reply, 
scarcely  knowing  how  to  ward  off  a  blow  the  responsi- 
bility of  which  must  fall  upon  him  alone.  The  due  de 
Richelieu,  with  greater  self-command,  extricated  him  from 
his  difficulty. 

"Sir,"  said  he  to  the  abbe",  "your  zeal  is  highly  praise- 
worthy, both  the  duke  and  myself  are  aware  of  all  that 
should  be  done  upon  such  an  occasion  as  the  present; 
and  although  I  freely  admit  that  the  sacred  act  you 
speak  of  is  of  an  imperative  nature,  yet  I  would  observe, 
that  the  king  being  still  in  ignorance  of  his  fatal  malad}*-, 
neither  your  duties  nor  ours  can  begin,  until  the  rc^ment 
when  the  physicians  shall  have  thought  proper  to  reveal 
the  whole  truth  to  his  majesty.  This  is  a  matter  of 
form  and  etiquette  to  which  all  mubt  submit  who  have 
any  functions  to  fulfil  in  the  chateau." 

The  due  de  Duras  could  have  hugged  his  colleague  for 
this  well-timed  reply.  The  abbe"  Mandaux  felt  all  the 
justness  of  the  observation,  yet  with  all  the  tenacity  of 
his  profession,  he  replied, 

(<  That  since  it  rested  with  the  physicians  to  apprize  the 
king  of  his  being  ill  with  the  small-pox,  they  ought  to 
be  summoned  and  consulted  as  to  the  part  to  take.* 

At  these  words  the  due  de  Duras  slipped  away  from 
the  group,  and  went  himself  in  search  of  Doctor  Bordeu, 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  409 

whom  he  brought  into  an  angle  of  the  chamber  out  of 
sight  of  the  king's  bed.  The  due  de  Duras  having  ex- 
plained to  him  what  the  abbe"  had  just  been  saying  to 
them,  as  well  as  the  desire  he  had  manifested  of  pre- 
paring the '  king  to  receive  the  last  sacraments,  the  doctor 
regarded  the  abbe"  fixedly  for  some  instance,  and  then  in- 
quired in  a  severe  tone,  "Whether  he  had  promised  any 
person  to  murder  the  king  ?  * 

This  abrupt  and  alarming  question  made  the  priest 
change  colour,  whilst  he  asked  for  an  explanation  of  such 
a  singular  charge. 

"I  say,  sir,"  replied  Bordeu,  "that  whoever  speaks  at 
present  to  his  majesty  of  small-pox,  confession,  or  ex- 
treme unction,  will  have  to  answer  for  his  life." 

"  Do  you,  indeed,  believe, "  asked  the  due  de  Richelieu, 
"  that  the  mention  of  these  things  would  produce  so  fatal 
a  result  ? " 

"  Most  assuredly  I  do ;  and  out  of  one  hundred  sick 
persons  it  would  have  the  same  effect  upon  sixty,  perhaps 
eighty;  indeed,  I  have  known  the  shock  produce  instan- 
taneous death.  This  I  am  willing  to  sign  with  my  own 
blood  if  it  be  necessary,  and  my  professional  brother 
there  will  not  dispute  its  truth." 

At  these  words  he  made  a  sign  for  Lemonnier  to  ad- 
vance, and  after  having  explained  to  him  the  subject  of 
conversation,  begged  of  him  to  speak  his  opinion  openly 
and  candidly.  Lemonnier  was  somewhat  of  a  courtier, 
and  one  glance  at  the  two  noblemen  before  whom  he 
stood,  was  sufficient  to  apprize  him  what  opinion  was  ex- 
pected from  him.  He,  therefore,  fully  and  unhesitatingly 
confirmed  all  that  Bordeu  had  previously  advanced. 

Strong  in  these  decisions,  the  due  de  Duras  expressed 
his  regret  to  the  confessor  at  being  unable  to  accord  his 
request.  "But,®  added  he,  "You  perceive  the  thing  is 
impossible,  unless  to  him  who  would  become  a  regicide." 

This  terrible  expression  renewed  the  former  terror  of 
the  abbe",  who,  satisfied  with  having  shown  his  zeal,  was, 
perhaps,  not  very  sorry  for  having  met  with  such  insur- 
mountable obstacles.  He  immediately  returned  to  the 
apartment  of  madame  Sophie,  where  the  council  was  still 


410  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

assembled,  and  related  the  particulars  of  his  visit;  whilst 
the  poor  archbishop  of  Paris,  thus  foiled  in  every  attempt, 
was  compelled  to  leave  Versailles  wholly  unsuccessful. 

I  heard  all  these  things  from  the  due  de  Richelieu;  he 
told  me  that  nothing  could  have  been  more  gratifying 
than  the  conduct  of  Bordeu  and  Lemonnier,  and  that  I 
had  every  reason  for  feeling  satisfied  with  the  conduct  of 
all  around  me.  <(  It  is  in  the  moment  of  peril, "  said  he, 
<(that  we  are  best  able  to  know  our  true  friends." 

a  I  see  it, "  replied  I ;  <(  and  since  our  danger  is  a  mu- 
tual one  ought  we  not  to  forget  our  old  subjects  of  dis- 
pute ? » 

<(  For  my  own  part,  madam, "  returned  he,  <(  I  do  not 
remember  that  any  ever  existed;  besides,  is  not  my  cause 
yours  likewise  ?  A  new  reign  will  place  me  completely 
in  the  background.  The  present  king  looks  upon  me  as 
almost  youthful;  while,  on  the  contrary,  his  grandson  will 
consider  me  as  a  specimen  of  the  days  of  Methuselah. 
The  change  of  masters  can  be  but  to  my  disadvantage; 
let  us,  therefore,  stand  firmly  together,  that  we  may  be 
the  better  enabled  to  resist  the  attacks  of  our  enemies.* 

<(  Do  you  consider,  "  inquired  I,  <c  that  we  may  rely  upon 
the  firmness  of  the  due  de  Duras  ? " 

*  As  safely  as  you  may  on  mine,"  answered  he,  "so  long 
as  he  is  not  attacked  face  to  face;  but  if  they  once  assail 
him  with  the  arms  of  etiquette,  he  is  a  lost  man,  he  will 
capitulate.  It  is  unfortunate  for  him  that  I  am  not  likely 
to  be  near  him  upon  such  an  occasion." 

Comte  Jean,  who  never  left  me,  then  took  up  the  con- 
versation, and  advised  M.  de  Richelieu  to  leave  him  to 
himself  as  little  as  possible ;  it  was,  therefore,  agreed  that 
we  should  cause  the  due  de  Duras  to  be  constantly  sur- 
rounded by  persons  of  our  party,  who  should  keep  those 
of  our  adversaries  at  a  distance. 

We  had  not  yet  lost  all  hope  of  seeing  his  majesty 
restored  to  health;  nature,  so  languid  and  powerless  in 
the  case  of  poor  Anne,  seemed  inclined  to  make  a  salu- 
tary effort  on  the  part  of  the  king. 

Every  instant  of  this  day  and  the  next,  that  I  did  not 
spend  by  the  sick-bed  of  Louis  XV.,  were  engrossed  by 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  411 

most  intimate  friends,  the  dues  d'Aiguillon,  de  Cosse", 
etc.,  mesdames  de  Mirepoix,  de  Forcalquier,  de  Valen- 
tinois,  de  1'Hopital,  de  Montmorency,  de  Flaracourt,  and 
others.  As  yet,  none  of  my  party  had  abandoned  me; 
the  situation  of  affairs  was  not,  up  to  the  present,  suffi- 
ciently clear  to  warrant  an  entire  defection.  The  good 
Genevieve  Mathon,  whom  chance  had  conducted  to  Ver- 
sailles during  the  last  week,  came  to  share  with  Henriette, 
my  sisters-in-law,  and  my  niece,  the  torments  and  uncer- 
tainties which  distracted  my  mind.  We  were  continually 
in  a  state  of  mortal  alarm,  dreading  every  instant  to  hear 
that  the  king  was  aware  of  his  malady,  and  the  danger 
which  threatened,  and  our  fears  but  too  well  proclaimed 
our  persuasion  that  such  a  moment  would  be  the  death- 
blow to  our  hopes.  It  happened  that  in  this  exigency,  as 
it  most  commonly  occurs  in  affairs  of  great  importance,  all 
our  apprehensions  had  been  directed  towards  the  ecclesi- 
astics, while  we  entirely  overlooked  the  probability  that 
the  abrupt  la  Martiniere  might,  in  one  instant,  become 
the  cause  of  our  ruin.  All  this  so  entirely  escaped  us, 
that  we  took  not  the  slightest  precaution  to  prevent  it. 

No  sooner  was  the  news  of  the  king  being  attacked 
with  small-pox  publicly  known,  than  a  doctor  Sulton,  an 
English  physician,  the  pretended  professor  of  an  infalli- 
ble cure  for  this  disease,  presented  himself  at  Versailles, 
and  tendered  his  services.  The  poor  man  was  simple 
enough  to  make  his  first  application  to  those  medical  at- 
tendants already  intrusted  with  the  management  of  his 
majesty,  but  neither  of  them  would  give  any  attention  to 
his  professions  of  skill  to  overcome  so  fatal  a  malady. 
On  the  contrary,  they  treated  him  as  a  mere  quack,  and 
declared  that  they  would  never  consent  to  confide  the 
charge  of  their  august  patient  to  the  hands  of  a  stranger 
whatever  he  might  be.  Sulton  returned  to  Paris,  and 
obtaining  an  audience  of  the  due  d'Orleans,  related  to 
him  what  had  passed  between  himself  and  the  king's 
physicians.  The  prince  made  it  his  business  the  follow- 
ing day  to  call  upon  the  princesses,  to  whom  he  related 
the  conversation  he  had  held  with  doctor  Sulton  the  pre- 
ceding evening. 


412  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

In  their  eagerness  to  avail  themselves  of  every  chance 
for  promoting  the  recovery  of  their  beloved  parent,  the 
princesses  blamed  the  duke  for  having  bestowed  so  little 
attention  upon  the  Englishman,  and  conjured  him  to 
return  to  Paris,  see  Sulton,  and  bring  him  to  Versailles 
on  the  following  day.  The  due  d'Orleans  acted  in  strict 
conformity  with  their  wishes;  and  although  but  little  sat- 
isfied with  the  replies  made  by  Sulton  to  many  of  his 
questions  relative  to  the  measures  he  should  pursue  in  his 
treatment  of  the  king,  he  caused  him  to  accompany  him 
to  Versailles,  in  order  that  the  princesses  might  judge 
for  themselves.  The  task  of  receiving  him  was  under- 
taken by  madame  Adelaide.  Sulton  underwent  a  rigorous 
examination,  and  was  offered  an  immense  sum  for  the 
discovery  of  his  secret,  provided  he  would  allow  his 
remedy  to  be  subjected  to  the  scrutiny  of  some  of  the 
most  celebrated  chemists  of  the  time.  Sulton  declared 
that  the  thing  was  impossible;  in  the  first  place,  it  was 
too  late,  the  disease  was  too  far  advanced  for  the  appli- 
cation of  the  remedy  to  possess  that  positive  success  it 
would  have  obtained  in  the  earlier  stage  of  the  malady; 
in  the  next  place,  he  could  not  of  himself  dispose  of  a 
secret  which  was  the  joint  property  of  several  members 
of  his  family. 

Prayers,  promises,  entreaties  were  alike  uselessly  em- 
ployed to  change  the  resolution  of  Sulton;  the  fact  was 
evidently  this,  he  knew  himself  to  be  a  mere  pretender 
to  his  art,  for  had  he  been  certain  of  what  he  advanced, 
had  he  even  conceived  the  most  slender  hopes  of  saving 
the  life  of  the  king,  he  would  not  have  hesitated  for  a 
single  instant  to  have  done  all  that  was  asked. 

This  chance  of  safety  was,  therefore,  at  an  end,  and 
spite  of  the  opinion  I  entertained  of  Sulton,  I  could  not 
but  feel  sorry  Bordeu  had  not  given  him  a  better  recep- 
tion when  he  first  made  known  his  professed  ability  to 
surmount  this  fatal  disorder.  However,  I  was  careful  not 
to  express  my  dissatisfaction,  for  it  was  but  too  important 
for  me  to  avoid  any  dispute  at  a  time  when  the  support 
of  my  friends  had  become  so  essentially  necessary  to  me. 

In   proportion    as   the   king  became    worse,  my    credit 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  413 

also  declined.  Two  orders,  addressed  to  the  comptroller- 
general  and  M.  de  la  Borde,  for  money,  met  with  no 
attention.  The  latter  replied,  with  extreme  politeness, 
that  the  100,000  francs  received  by  comte  Jean  a  few 
days  before  the  king  was  taken  ill,  and  the  50,000  paid 
to  madame  de  Mirepoix  recently,  must  be  a  convincing 
proof,  in  my  eyes,  of  his  friendly  intentions  towards  me, 
but  that  he  had  no  money  at  present  in  his  possession, 
the  first  he  received  should  be  at  my  disposal. 

The  abb6  Terray  acted  with  less  ceremony,  for  he 
came  himself  to  say,  that,  so  long  as  the  king  remained 
ill,  he  would  pay  no  money  without  his  majesty's  signa- 
ture, for  which  my  brother-in-law  might  either  ask  or 
wait  till  there  no  longer  existed  any  occasion  for  such  a 
precaution;  and  that,  for  his  own  part,  he  could  not  con- 
ceive how  he  could  have  consumed  the  enormous  sums 
he  had  already  drawn  from  the  treasury. 

This  manner  of  speaking  stung  me  to   the  quick. 

(<  I  find  you,"  said  I  to  him,  (<precisely  the  mean,  contempt- 
ible wretch  you  were  described  to  me;  biit  you  are  pre- 
mature. I  am  not  yet  an  exile  from  court,  and  yet 
you  seem  already  to  have  forgotten  all  you  owe  to  me.8 

<CI  have  a  very  good  memory,  madam, B  replied  he, 
"and  if  you  wish  it,  I  can  count  upon  my  fingers  the 
money  you  and  your  family  have  received  of  me.  You 
will  see — B 

w  What  shall  I  see  ? }>  interrupted  I,  « unless,  indeed,  it 
be  an  amount  of  your  regrets  that  such  a  sum  was  not 
left  in  your  hands  to  be  pillaged  by  your  mistresses  and 
their  spurious  offspring.  Really,  to  hear  you  talk,  any 
one  would  suppose  you  a  Sully  for  integrity,  and  a  Col- 
bert in  financial  talent. w 

This  vigorous  reply  staggered  the  selfish  and  coarse - 
minded  abbe",  who  easily  perceived  that  he  had  carried 
matters  too  far,  and  had  reckoned  erroneously  upon  the  fee- 
bleness and  timidity  of  my  natural  disposition ;  he  attempted 
to  pacify  me,  but  his  cowardly  insolence  had  exasperated 
me  too  highly  to  admit  of  any  apology  or  peace-making. 

"Have  a  care  what  you  do,"  said  I,  "  or  rather  employ 
yourself  in  packing  up  whatever  may  belong  to  you,  for 


4H  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

you  shall  quit  your  post  whatever  may  befall.  In  the 
event  of  the  king's  death  you  will  certainly  be  turned 
out  by  his  successor,  and  if  he  regain  his  health,  he 
must  then  choose  between  you  and  me,  there  can  be 
no  medium.  Henceforward,  you  may  consider  me  only 
in  the  light  of  your  mortal  enemy. w 

He  wished  to  insist  upon  my  hearing  him,  but  I  ex- 
claimed, "Quit  the  room,  I  wish  neither  to  see  nor  hear 
more  of  you.® 

The  abbe"  saw  that  it  was  necessary  to  obey,  he  there- 
fore bowed  and  retired.  Two  hours  afterwards  he  sent 
me  the  sum  which  I  had  asked  of  him  for  my  brother-in- 
law,  accompanied  by  a  most  humble  and  contrite  letter. 
Certainly,  had  I  only  listened  to  the  inspiration  of  my 
heart,  I  should  have  sent  back  the  money  without  touch- 
ing it,  and  the  epistle  without  reading  it ;  but  my  heroism 
did  not  suit  comte  Jean,  who  chanced  to  be  present. 
"Take  it,  take  it,®  cried  he;  "the  only  way  of  punishing 
such  a  miscreant,  is  to  break  his  purse-strings.  He  would, 
indeed,  have  the  laugh  on  his  side  were  your  fit  of  anger 
to  change  into  a  fit  of  generosity;  besides,  this  may  be 
the  last  we  shall  ever  see.8 

My  brother-in-law  and  the  comptroller-general  were  an 
excellent  pair.  I  treated  the  latter  with  silent  contempt, 
not  even  replying  to  his  letter;  this  was,  however,  my 
first  and  only  stroke  of  vengeance,  the  disastrous  events 
which  followed  did  not  permit  me  to  pursue  my  plans  for 
revenging  this  treacherous  and  contemptible  conduct. 

This  quarrel,  and  the  defection  of  the  worthy  abbe",  had 
the  effect  of  rendering  me  much  indisposed.  My  illness 
was  attributed  to  an  excess  of  sorrow  for  the  dangerous 
condition  of  his  majesty,  nor  did  I  contradict  the  report; 
for,  in  truth,  I  did  most  sincerely  lament  the  malady  with 
which  the  king  was  suffering,  and  my  regrets  arose  far 
more  from  a  feeling  of  gratitude  and  esteem,  than  any 
self-interested  calculations.  It  was,  therefore,  in  no  very 
excellent  humour  that  I  saw  the  prince  de  Soubise  enter 
my  apartment.  You  may  remember  that  this  nobleman 
had  quitted  Trianon  without  saying  one  word  to  me,  and 
since  that  period  I  had  never  seen  him,  although  he  had 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  415 

punctually  made  his  inquiries  after  the  king.  When  I 
perceived  him,  I  could  not  help  inquiring,  with  something 
of  a  sarcastic  expression,  whether  his  majesty  had  been 
pronounced  convalescent  ?  The  prince  comprehended  the 
bitterness  of  the  question. 

"You  are  severe,  madam, M  replied  he,  "yet  I  can 
solemnly  affirm  that  circumstances,  and  not  inclination, 
have  kept  me  from  your  presence  until  now." 

"  May  I  believe  you  ? "  said  I.  (<  Are  you  quite  sure 
you  have  not  been  imitating  the  policy  of  the  abbd 
Terray  ? B  Upon  which  I  related  the  behaviour  of  the 
comptroller-general. 

<(  Priest-like, w  answered  the  prince. 

"  And  is  it  not  courtier-like  also  ? })  inquired  I. 

"Perhaps  it  may,"  rejoined  M.  de  Soubise;  "for  the 
two  species  of  priest  and  courtier  so  nearly  resemble 
each  other  in  many  particulars,  as  to  have  become  well 
nigh  amalgamated  into  one ;  but  I  claim  your  indulgence 
to  make  me  an  exception  to  the  general  rule,  and  to 
class  me  as  a  soldier  and  a  man  of  honour;  besides 
which,  you  are  too  lovely  ever  to  be  forgotten,  and  your 
past  goodness  to  me  will  ensure  you  my  services  let  what 
may  occur.* 

"  Well,  then, }>  said  I,  extending  my  hand,  "  as  a  re- 
ward for  your  candour,  which  I  receive  as  genuine,  I  will 
request  your  forgiveness  for  any  annoyance  I  may  have 
caused  you  on  your  family's  account,  I  ought  never  to 
have  resented  any  thing  they  have  done.  My  presence 
here  could  not  fail  of  being  highly  disagreeable  to  them ; 
however,  they  will  soon  be  relieved  from  that  source  of 
uneasiness,  my  stay  draws  rapidly  to  a  close." 

The  prince  de  Soubise,  with  a  ready  grace  and  oblig- 
ing manner,  for  which  I  shall  ever  remember  him  with 
a  grateful  recollection,  endeavoured  to  dispel  my  appre- 
hensions as  to  the  state  of  the  king;  but  whilst  I  ac- 
knowledged the  kindness  of  his  intention,  my  heart 
refused  all  comfort  in  a  case,  which  I  too  well  knew 
was  utterly  hopeless. 

The  state  of  affairs  was  now  so  manifest,  that  already 
an  obsequious  crowd  beseiged  the  doors  of  the  dauphin, 


416  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

anxious  to  be  first  in  the  demonstration  of  their  adoration 
of  the  rising  sun;  but  the  young  prince,  aided  by  the 
clear-minded  advice  of  his  august  spouse,  refused,  with 
admirable  prudence,  to  receive  such  premature  homage; 
and  since  he  was  interdicted  by  the  physicians  from 
visiting  the  royal  invalid,  he  confined  himself  within  his 
apartments,  admitting  no  person  but  a  select  few  who 
possessed  his  confidence. 

The  disappointed  satellites,  frustrated  in  their  endeav- 
ours to  ingratiate  themselves  with  the  dauphin,  turned 
their  thoughts  towards  the  comte  de  Provence,  imagining 
that  this  prince,  spite  of  his  extreme  youth,  might  have 
considerable  influence  over  the  mind  of  his  brother,  the 
dauphin.  But  this  idea,  however  plausible,  was  by  no 
means  correct;  it  was  too  much  the  interest  of  ambitious 
and  mercenary  men  to  create  a  want  of  harmony  between 
the  royal  pair,  and  up  to  the  moment  in  which  I  am 
writing,  no  attempts  have  been  made  to  produce  a 
kinder  and  more  fraternal  feeling  between  two  such  near 
relatives. 

I  quitted  the  king  as  little  as  possible,  watching  with 
deep  concern  the  progress  of  a  malady,  the  nature  of 
which  was  a  secret  to  himself  alone;  for,  in  the  dread 
of  incurring  my  displeasure,  no  person  had  ventured  to 
acquaint  him  with  the  awful  fact.  By  the  aid  of  the 
grand  almoner,  I  had  triumphed  over  the  wishes  of  the 
archbishop  of  Paris,  and  those  of  the  confessor.  The 
princes  and  princesses  awaited  the  event;  all  was  calm 
composure;  when,  all  at  once,  the  barriers  I  had  been  so 
carefully  erecting  were  crushed  beneath  my  feet,  at  one 
sudden  and  unexpected  blow. 

The  king  was  by  no  means  easy  in  his  own  mind  with 
regard  to  his  illness.  The  many  messages  that  were  con- 
tinually whispered  around  him,  the  remedies  administered, 
and,  above  all,  the  absence  of  his  grandsons,  all  con- 
vinced him  that  something  of  a  very  unusual  and  alarm- 
ing nature  was  progressing.  His  own  feelings  might, 
likewise,  well  assure  him  that  he  was  attacked  by  an  ill- 
ness of  no  ordinary  nature.  Tortured  beyond  further 
bearing  by  the  suggestions  of  his  fancy,  Louis  XV.  at 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  417 

length,  resolved  to  ascertain  the  truth,  and,  with  this  in- 
tent, closely  questioned  Bordeu  and  Lemonnier,  who  did 
their  best  to  deceive  him.  Still,  dissatisfied  with,  their 
evasive  replies,  he  watched  an  opportunity,  when  they 
were  both  absent,  to  desire  La  Martiniere  would  at  once 
explain  the  true  malady  with  which  he  was  then  suffer- 
ing. La  Martiniere  puzzled  and  confused,  could  only 
exclaim, 

(<  I  entreat  of  you,  sire,  not  to  fatigue  yourself  with 
conversation ;  remember  how  strongly  you  have  been  for- 
bidden all  exertion.* 

(<I  am  no  child,  La  Martiniere,8  cried  Louis  XV.,  his 
cheeks  glowing  with  increased  fire ;  <(  and  I  insist  upon 
being  made  acquainted  with  the  precise  nature  of  my 
present  illness.  You  have  always  served  me  loyally  and 
faithfully,  and  from  you  I  expect  to  receive  that  candid 
statement  every  one  about  me  seems  bent  upon  con- 
cealing. * 

<(  Endeavour  to  get  some  sleep,  sire,*  rejoined  La  Mar- 
tiniere, <(  and  do  not  exhaust  yourself  by  speaking  at 
present.  * 

<(  La  Martiniere,  you  irritate  me  beyond  all  endurance. 
If  you  love  me,  speak  out,  I  conjure  you,  and  tell  me, 
frankly,  the  name  of  my  complaint.  * 

(<  Do  you  insist  upon  it,  sire  ?  * 

(<  I  do,  my  friend,  I  do.  * 

(<  Then,  sire,  you  have  the  small-pox ;  but  be  not 
alarmed,  it  is  a  disease  as  frequently  cured  as  many 
others. * 

(<  The  small-pox ! *  exclaimed  the  king,  in  a  voice  of 
horror ;  <(  have  I  indeed  that  fatal  disease  ?  and  do  you 
talk  of  curing  it  ? B 

<(  Doubtless,  sire ;  many  die  of  it  as  well  as  other  dis- 
orders, but  we  are  sanguine  in  our  hopes  and  expecta- 
tions of  saving  your  majesty.* 

The  king  made  no  reply,  but  turned  heavily  in  his 
bed  and  threw  the  coverlet  over  his  face.  A  silence 
ensued,  which  lasted  until  the  return  of  the  physicians, 
when,  finding  they  made  no  allusion  to  his  condition,  the 
king  addressed  them  in  a  cool  and  offended  tone. 
27 


4i8  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

a  Why, ®  said  he,  <(  have  you  concealed  from  me  the  fact 
of  my  having  the  small-pox  ? ®  This  abrupt  inquiry  pet- 
rified them  with  astonishment,  and  unable  to  frame  a 
proper  reply,  they  stood  speechless  with  alarm  and  ap- 
prehension. <(  Yes, ®  resumed  the  king,  *  but  for  La  Mar- 
tiniere,  I  should  have  died  in  ignorance  of  my  danger.  I 
know  now  the  state  in  which  I  am,  and  before  long 
I  shall  be  gathered  to  my  forefathers.* 

All  around  him  strove  to  combat  this  idea,  and  exerted 
their  utmost  endeavours  to  persuade  the  royal  patient 
that  his  disorder  had  assumed  the  most  favourable  shape, 
and  that  not  a  shadow  of  danger  was  perceptible,  but  in 
vain;  for  the  blow  had  fallen,  and  the  hapless  king, 
struck  with  a  fatal  presentiment  of  coming  ill,  turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  all  they  could  advance. 

Bordeu,  deeply  concerned  for  what  had  transpired, 
hastened  to  announce  to  the  due  de  Richelieu  the  turn 
which  had  taken  place  in  the  face  of  affairs.  Nothing 
could  exceed  the  rage  with  which  the  news  was  received. 
The  duke  hurried  to  the  king's  bedside. 

<(  Is  it,  indeed,  true,  sire,*  inquired  he,  "that  your  maj- 
esty doubts  of  your  perfect  restoration  to  health  ?  May  I 
presume  to  inquire  whether  any  circumstance  has  occurred 
to  diminish  your  confidence  in  your  medical  attendants  ? " 

(<  Due  de  Richelieu, ®  replied  the  king,  looking  as  though 
he  would  search  into  his  very  soul,  <(  I  have  the  small- 
pox. ® 

"Well,®  returned  the  duke,  "and,  as  I  understand,  of 
a  most  favourable  sort ;  perhaps,  it  might  have  been  better 
that  La  Martiniere  had  said  nothing  about  it.  However, 
it  is  a  malady  as  readily  subdued  by  art  as  any  other; 
you  must  not  allow  yourself  to  feel  any  uneasiness  re- 
specting it,  science  has  now  so  much  improved  in  the 
treatment  of  this  malady." 

"  I  doubt  not  its  ability  to  cure  others,  but  me !  In- 
deed, due  de  Richelieu,  I  would  much  rather  face  my 
old  parliament  than  this  inveterate  disease.® 

"Your  majesty's  being  able  to  jest  is  a  good  sign.® 

At  this  moment,  ignorant  of  all  that  had  taken  place, 
I  entered  the  room;  for,  in  the  general  confusion,  no 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  419 

person  had  informed   me  of  it.     The  moment  Louis  XV. 

perceived  me,  he  exclaimed  in  a  hollow  tone, 
ft  Dearest  countess,  I  have  the  small-pox.  * 
At  these  words  a  cry  of  terror  escaped  me. 
w  Surely,  sire, }>  exclaimed  I,    (<  this   is   some    wandering 

of   your    imagination,    and   your   medical    attendants    are 

very  wrong  to  permit  you  to  indulge  it  for  a  minute.* 

*  Peace !  w  returned  Louis  XV. ;  (<  you  know  not  what  you 
say.     I  have  the   small-pox,    I   repeat;  and,  thanks  to  La 
Martiniere,  I  now  know  my  real  state.* 

I  now  perceived  whose  hand  had  dealt  the  blow,  and 
seeing  at  once  all  the  consequences  of  the  disclosure,  ex- 
claimed in  my  anger,  turning  towards  La  Martiniere, 

w  You  have  achieved  a  noble  work,  indeed,  sir ;  you 
could  not  restrain  yourself  within  the  bounds  of  prudence, 
and  you  see  the  state  to  which  you  have  reduced  his 
majesty. w 

La  Martiniere  knew  not  what  to  reply;  the  king  un- 
dertook his  defence. 

*  Blame  him  not, w  said  he ;  a  but  for  him  I  should  have 
quitted   this  world  like    a   heathen,    without   making    my 
peace  with  an  offended  God.® 

At  these  words  I  fainted  in  the  arms  of  doctor  Bordeu, 
who,  with  the  aid  of  my  attendants,  carried  me  to  my 
chamber,  and,  at  length,  succeeded  in  restoring  me.  My 
family  crowded  around  me,  and  sought  to  afford  me  that 
consolation  they  were  in  equal  need  of  themselves. 

Spite  of  the  orders  I  had  given  to  admit  no  person, 
the  due  d'Aiguillon  would  insist  upon  seeing  me.  He 
exerted  his  best  endeavours  to  persuade  me  to  arm  my- 
self with  courage,  and,  like  a  true  and  attached  friend, 
appeared  to  lose  sight  of  his  own  approaching  fall  from 
power  in  his  ardent  desire  to  serve  me. 

In  this  mournful  occupation  an  hour  passed  away,  and 
left  my  dejected  companions  sighing  over  the  present, 
and,  anticipating  even  worse  prospects  than  those  now 
before  them. 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 

Terror  of  the  king  —  A  complication  —  Filial  piety  of  the  princesses  — 
Last  interview  between  madame  du  Barry  and  Louis  XV.  —  Con- 
versation with  the  marechale  de  Mirepoix  —  The  chancellor  Maupeou 
—  The  fragment  —  Comte  Jean. 

PERHAPS  no  person  ever  entertained  so  great  a  dread 
of  death  as  Louis  XV.,  consequently  no  one  re- 
quired to  be  more  carefully  prepared  for  the  alarm- 
ing intelligence  so  abruptly  communicated  by  La 
Martiniere,  and  which,  in  a  manner,  appeared  to  sign 
the  king's  death-warrant. 

To  every  person  who  approached  him  the  despairing 
monarch  could  utter  only  the  fatal  phrase,  (<  I  have  the 
small-pox,*  which,  in  his  lips,  was  tantamount  to  his  de- 
claring himself  a  dead  man.  Alas!  had  his  malady  been 
confined  to  the  small-pox,  he  might  still  have  been  spared 
to  our  prayers;  but,  unhappily,  a  complication  of  evils, 
which  had  long  been  lurking  in  his  veins,  burst  forth 
with  a  violence  which,  united  to  his  cruel  complaint,  bade 
defiance  to  surgical  or  medical  skill. 

Yet,  spite  of  the  terror  with  which  the  august  suf- 
ferer contemplated  his  approaching  end,  he  did  not  lose 
sight  of  the  interests  of  the  nation  as  vested  in  the  per- 
son of  the  dauphin,  whom  he  positively  prohibited,  as 
well  as  his  other  grandsons,  from  entering  his  chamber 
or  even  visiting  the  part  of  the  chateau  he  occupied. 
After  this  he  seemed  to  divest  himself  of  all  further  care 
for  sublunary  things;  no  papers  were  brought  for  his 
inspection,  nor  did  he  ever  more  sign  any  official  document. 

The   next    request    made    by    Louis    XV.    was    for   his 

daughters,    who    presented    themselves    bathed    in    tears, 

and  vainly  striving  to  repress  that  grief  which  -burst  forth 

in  spite  of  all  their  endeavours.     The  king  replied  to  their 

(420) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  421 

sobs,  by  saying,  <(  My  children,  I  have  the  small-pox;  but 
weep  not.  These  gentlemen  [pointing  towards  the  phy- 
sicians] assure  me  they  can  cure  me.  *  But,  while  uttering 
this  cheerful  sentence,  his  eye  caught  the  stern  and  iron 
countenance  of  La  Martiniere,  whose  look  of  cool  disbelief 
seemed  to  deny  the  possibility  of  such  an  event. 

With  a  view  to  divert  her  father  from  the  gloom  which 
all  at  once  came  over  his  features,  the  princess  Adelaide 
informed  him  that  she  had  a  letter  addressed  to  him  by 
her  sister,  madame  Louise. 

<(Let  me  hear  it,w  cried  the  king;  "it  is,  no  doubu 
some  heavenly  mission  with  which  she  is  charged.  But 
who  knows  ? "  He  stopped,  but  it  was  easy  to  perceive 
that  to  the  fear  of  death  was  added  a  dread  of  his  well- 
being  in  another  world.  Madame  Adelaide  then  read 
the  letter  with  a  low  voice,  while  the  attendants  retired 
to  a  respectful  distance.  All  eyes  were  directed  to  the 
countenance  of  the  king,  in  order  to  read  there  the  na- 
ture of  its  contents;  but  already  had  the  ravages  of  his 
fatal  disease  robbed  his  features  of  every  expression, 
save  that  of  pain  and  suffering. 

The  princesses  now  took  their  stations  beside  their 
parent,  and  established  themselves  as  nurses,  an  office 
which,  I  can  with  truth  affirm,  they  continued  to  fill 
unto  the  last  with  all  the  devotion  of  the  purest  filial 
piety. 

On  this  same  day  Louis  XV.  caused  me  to  be  sent 
for.  I  ran  to  his  bedside  trembling  with  alarm.  The 
various  persons  engaged  in  his  apartment  retired  when 
they  saw  me,  and  we  were  left  alone. 

(<My  beloved  friend, w  said  the  king,  (<  I  have  the  small- 
pox; I  am  still  very  ill." 

"Nay,  sire, w  interrupted  I,  <(you  must  not  fancy  things 
worse  than  they  are;  you  will  do  well,  depend  upon  it, 
and  we  shall  yet  pass  many  happy  days  together.* 

(<  Do  you  indeed  think  so  ?  *  returned  Louis  XV.  (<  May 
heaven  grant  your  prophecy  be  a  correct  one.  But  see 
the  state  in  which  I  now  am;  give  me  your  hand." 

He  took  my  hand  and  made  me  feel  the  pustules  with 
which  his  burning  cheeks  were  covered.  I  know  not 


422  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE  VAUBERNIER 

what  effect  this  touch  of  my  hand  might  have  produced, 
but  the  king  in  his  turn  patted  my  face,  pushed  back 
the  curls  which  hung  negligently  over  my  brow;  then, 
inclining  me  towards  him,  drew  my  head  upon  his  pillow. 
I  submitted  to  this  whim  with  all  the  courage  I  could 
assume;  I  even  went  so  far  as  to  be  upon  the  point  of 
bestowing  a  gentle  kiss  upon  his  forehead.  But,  stopping 
me,  with  a  mournful  air,  he  said,  <(  No,  my  lovely  coun- 
tess; I  am  no  longer  myself,  but  here  is  a  miniature 
which  has  not  undergone  the  same  change  as  its  unfortu- 
nate master.® 

I  took  the  miniature,  which  I  placed  with  respectful 
tenderness  in  my  bosom,  nor  have  I  ever  parted  with  it 
since. 

This  scene  lasted  for  some  minutes,  after  which  I  was 
retiring,  but  the  king  called  me  back,  seized  my  hand, 
which  he  tenderly  kissed,  and  then  whispered  an  af- 
fectionate (<  Adieu."  These  were  the  last  words  I  ever 
heard  from  his  lips. 

Upon  re-entering  my  apartments  I  found  madame  de 
Mirepoix  awaiting  me,  to  whom  I  related  all  that  had 
taken  place,  expressing,  at  the  same  time,  my  earnest 
hope  of  being  again  summoned,  ere  long,  to  the  pres- 
ence of  my  friend  and  benefactor. 

<(Do  not  deceive  yourself,  my  dear,"  said  she;  (< de- 
pend upon  it  you  have  had  your  last  interview;  you 
should  have  employed  it  more  profitably.  His  portrait! 
why,  if  I  mistake  not,  you  have  five  already.  Why  did 
you  not  carry  about  with  you  some  deed  of  settlement 
ready  for  signature?  he  would  have  denied  you  nothing 
at  such  a  moment,  when  you  may  rest  assured  he  knew 
himself  to  be  taking  his  last  farewell." 

w  Is  it  possible  ? "  exclaimed  I.  <(And  can  you  really 
suppose  the  king  believed  he  spoke  to  me  for  the  last 
time  ? » 

<(I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  of  it;  I  have  known 
him  for  many  a  day.  He  remembers  the  scene  of  Metz, 
and  looks  upon  you  as  forming  the  second  edition  of  the 
poor  duchesse  de  Chateauroux,  who,  by  the  by,  was  not 
equal  to  you  in  any  respect." 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  423 

I  burst  into  a  fit  of  tears,  but  not  of  regret  for  having 
allowed  my  late  interview  with  the  king  to  pass  in  so 
unprofitable  a  manner.  However,  the  mare*chale,  mis- 
conceiving the  cause  of  this  burst  of  grief,  exclaimed, 
(<  Come,  come ;  it  is  too  late  now,  and  all  your  sorrow 
cannot  recall  the  last  half-hour.  But,  mademoiselle  du 
Barry, w  continued  she,  <(  I  advise  you  to  commence  your 
packing  up  at  once,  that  when  the  grand  move  comes, 
you  may  not  in  your  hurry,  leave  anything  behind 
you. w 

These  remarks  increased  my  affliction,  but  the  mare"- 
chale  had  no  intention  of  wounding  my  feelings,  and 
worldly-minded  as  she  was,  considered  all  that  could  be 
saved  out  of  the  wreck  as  the  only  subject  worthy  at- 
tention. Meanwhile,  comte  Jean,  with  a  gloomy  and 
desponding  air,  continued  silently  with  folded  arms  to 
pace  the  room,  till  all  at  once,  as  if  suddenly  struck  by 
the  arguments  of  madame  de  Mirepoix,  he  exclaimed, 

<(  The  mare'chale  is  right w ;  and  abruptly  quitted  the 
apartment,  as  if  to  commence  his  own  preparations. 

Ere  madame  de  Mirepoix  had  left  me  and  she  remained 
till  a  late  hour,  the  dues  d'Aiguillon  and  de  Cosse"  ar- 
rived, who,  although  less  experienced  in  their  knowledge 
of  the  king's  character,  were  yet  fully  of  her  opinion 
respecting  my  last  visit  to  him. 

Scarcely  had  these  visitors  withdrawn,  than  I  was  ap- 
prized that  the  chancellor  of  France  desired  to  see  me. 
He  was  admitted,  and  the  first  glance  of  the  countenance 
of  M.  de  Maupeou  convinced  me  that  our  day  of  power 
was  rapidly  closing. 

"Your  servant,  cousin,*  said  he,  seating  himself  with- 
out the  smallest  ceremony ;  <(  at  what  page  of  our  history 
have  we  arrived  ?  * 

<(  By  the  unusual  freedom  and  effrontery  of  your  man- 
ner," answered  I,  (<  I  should  surmise  that  we  have  reached 
the  word  finis.* 

"Oh,"  replied  the  chancellor,  <(  I  crave  your  pardon  for 
having  omitted  my  best  bow;  but,  my  good  cousin,  my 
present  visit  is  a  friendly  one,  to  advise  you  to  burn 
your  papers  with  as  little  delay  as  possible.* 


424  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

"Thank  you  for  your  considerate  counsel, w  said  I, 
coolly,  <(  but  I  have  no  papers  to  destroy.  I  have  neither 
mixed  with  any  state  intrigue,  nor  received  a  pension 
from  the  English  government.  Nothing  will  be  found  in 
my  drawers  but  some  unanswered  billets-doux.  * 

"Then  as  I  can  do  nothing  for  you,  my  good  cousin, 
oblige  me  by  giving  this  paper  to  the  due  d'Aiguillon.* 

"  What  is  it  ? B  inquired  I,  with  much  curiosity. 

"  Have  you  forgotten  our  mutual  engagement  to  support 
each  other,  and  not  to  quit  the  ministry  until  the  other 
retired  also  ?  I  have  lately  been  compelled  (from  per- 
ceiving how  deeply  the  duke  Was  manoeuvring  against 
me)  to  send  him  a  copy  of  this  agreement.  Under  other 
circumstances  I  might  have  availed  myself  of  this  writ- 
ing, but  now  it  matters  not;  the  blow  which  dismisses 
me  proceeds  from  other  hands  than  his,  and  I  am  willing 
to  leave  him  the  consolation  of  remaining  in  power  a 
few  days  after  myself.  Give  him,  then,  this  useless  docu- 
ment; and  now,  farewell,  my  pretty  cousin,  let  us  take 
a  last  embrace.® 

Upon  which  the  chancellor,  presuming  until  the  last 
upon  our  imaginary  relationship,  kissed  my  cheek,  and 
having  put  into  my  hands  the  paper  in  question,  retired 
with  a  profound  bow. 

This  ironical  leave  taking  left  me  stupefied  with  aston- 
ishment, and  well  I  presaged  my  coming  disgrace  from 
the  absurd  mummery  the  chancellor  had  thought  fit  to 
play  off. 

Comte  Jean,  who  had  seen  M.  de  Maupeou  quit  the 
house,  entered  my  apartment  to  inquire  the  reason  of  his 
visit.  Silent  and  dejected,  I  allowed  my  brother-in-law 
to  take  up  the  paper,  which  he  read  without  any  cere- 
mony. "  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  scrawl  ? w  cried 
comte  Jean,  with  one  of  his  usual  oaths;  "upon  my 
word  our  cousin  is  a  fine  fellow,*  continued  he,  crushing 
the  paper  between  his  fingers.  "  I'll  engage  that  he  still 
hopes  to  keep  his  place ;  however,  one  thing  consoles  me, 
and  that  is,  that  both  he  and  his  parliament  will  soon  be 
sent  to  the  right  about. w 

Our   conversation  was  interrupted   by   the   entrance  of 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  425 

Chamilly,  who  came  to  acquaint  me  that  the  king  was 
sleeping,  and  did  not  wish  to  be  again  disturbed  that  night. 
Remembering  my  usual  omnipotence  in  the  chateau,  I 
was  about,  like  a  true  idiot,  to  prove  to  Chamilly  that  the 
king's  interdict  did  not  extend  to  me,  when  I  was  stopped 
in  my  purpose  by  the  appearance  of  the  due  d'Aiguillon; 
and  as  it  was  now  nearly  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  I  could 
scarcely  doubt  his  being  the  bearer  of  some  extraordinary 
message. 


CHAPTER    XLIV. 

The  due  d'Aiguillon  brings  an  order  for  the  immediate  departure  of 
madame  du  Barry  —  The  king's  remarks  recapitulated  —  The  count- 
ess holds  a  privy  council  —  Letter  to  madame  de  Mirepoix  and  the 
dues  de  Cosse  and  d'Aiguillon  —  Night  of  departure  —  Ruel  —  Visit 
from  madame  de  Forcalquier. 

I    SAID   I   did  not    expect  the   due   d'Aiguillon;  and  the 
grief    which    was    spread    over   his    features,  and   the 
large  tears  which  stood  in  his  eyes,  persuaded  me  but 
too  plainly  that  all  hope  was  at  an  end. 

(<  Is  the  king  dead  ? "  cried  I,  in  a  stifled  voice. 

tt  No,  madam, "  replied  he,  (<  Louis  XV.  still  lives,  nor 
is  it  by  any  means  certain  that  the  misfortune  you  ap- 
prehend is  in  store  for  us." 

(<  He  sends  me  from  him,  then, "  exclaimed  I,  with  a 
convulsive  cry,  "and  my  enemies  have  triumphed." 

"His  majesty  is  but  of  human  nature,  madam,"  replied 
the  duke;  <(he  feels  himself  dangerously  ill,  dreads  the 
future,  and  believes  that  he  owes  his  people  a  sort  of  rep- 
aration for  past  errors." 

"How,  my  lord  duke,"  interrupted  I,  "this  grave  lan- 
guage in  your  lips  —  but  no  matter.  Inform  me  only  at 
whose  desire  you  state  these  melancholy  facts;  speak,  I 
am  prepared  for  your  mission,  be  it  what  it  may." 

"You  shall  hear  everything,  madam,"  replied  the  duke, 
leading  me  to  an  arm-chair.  I  seated  myself;  my  sisters- 
in-law,  my  niece,  and  comte  Jean  stood  around  me, 
eagerly  waiting  the  duke's  communication.  "A  few  hours 
after  you  had  been  removed  from  his  chamber,  the  king 
inquired  of  the  princess  Adelaide  whether  it  were  gen- 
erally known  at  Paris  that  he  had  the  small-pox.  The 
princess  replied  in  the  affirmative,  adding: 
(426) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  427 

* < The  archbishop  of  Paris  was  here  twice  during  yes- 
terday to  inquire  after  you.* 

« <  Yet  I  belong  more  properly  to  the  diocese  of  Char- 
tres,*  returned  the  king,  (and  surely  M.  de  Fleury  would 
not  interest  himself  less  about  me  than  M.  de  Beaumont.* 

* < They  are  both  truly  anxious  about  you,  my  dearest 
father,  and  if  you  would  only  see  them — 5 

*  <  No,  no,  *    answered    Louis  XV. ;  ( they    must    not   be 
taken    from   the    duties  of  their  respective    dioceses;   be- 
sides, in  case  of  need,  I  have  my  grand  almoner.* 

<(  Madame  Adelaide  did  not  venture  to  urge  the  matter 
further  just  then,  and,  after  a  short  interval  of  silence, 
a  message  was  brought  from  you,  inquiring  whether  you 
could  see  the  king,  to  which  he  himself  replied,  that  he 
felt  inclined  to  sleep,  and  would  rather  not  see  any  per- 
son that  night.  I  was  in  the  chamber,  and  he  very 
shortly  called  me  to  him,  and  said: 

*  *  Due  d' Aiguillon,   I  have  the   small-pox ;   and  you  are 
aware    that    there    is    a  sort    of   etiquette    in  my   family 
which  enjoins  my  immediately  discharging  my  duties  as 
a  Christian.* 

"  ( Yes,  sire,  if  the  malady  wore  a  serious  aspect ;  but  in 
your  case  —  * 

<(  <  May  God  grant,  *  replied  he,  ( that  my  disorder  be 
not  dangerous;  however,  it  may  become  so,  if  it  is  as  yet 
harmless,  and  I  would  fain  die  as  a  believer  rather  than 
an  infidel.  I  have  been  a  great  sinner,  doubtless;  but  I 
have  ever  observed  Lent  with  a  most  scrupulous  exacti- 
tude. I  have  caused  more  than  a  hundred  thousand 
masses  to  be  said  for  the  repose  of  unhappy  souls;  I 
have  respected  the  clergy,  and  punished  the  authors  of 
all  impious  works,  so  that  I  flatter  myself  I  have  not 
been  a  very  bad  Christian.* 

(<  I  listened  to  his  discourse  with  a  heavy  heart,  yet  I 
still  strove  to  reassure  the  king  respecting  his  health,  of 
which,  I  assured  him,  there  was  not  the  slightest  doubt. 

n  *  There  is  one  sacrifice,*  said  the  king,  in  a  low  and 
hurried  tone,  'that  my  daughter  Louise,  her  sisters,  and 
the  clergy,  will  not  be  long  in  exacting  from  me  in  the 
name  of  etiquette.  I  recollect  the  scene  of  Metz,  and  it 


428  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

would  be  highly  disagreeable  to  me  to  have  it  repeated 
at  Versailles;  let  us,  therefore,  take  our  precautions  in 
time  to  prevent  it.  Tell  the  duchesse  d'Aiguillon  that 
she  will  oblige  me  by  taking  the  comtesse  du  Barry  to 
pass  two  or  three  days  with  her  at  Ruel.' 

<(  *  How,  sire ! J  exclaimed  I,  <  send  your  dearest  friend 
from  you  at  a  time  when  you  most  require  her  cares  ? > 

<(  <  I  do  not  send  her  away, y  answered  the  king,  with 
mournful  tenderness,  <I  but  yield  to  present  necessity; 
let  her  submit  as  she  values  my  happiness,  and  say  to  her, 
that  I  hope  and  believe  her  absence  will  be  very  short. *  }> 

The  duke  here  ceased  his  recital,  which  fully  confirmed 
all  my  previous  anticipations.  My  female  relatives  sobbed 
aloud,  while  comte  Jean,  compressing  his  lips,  endeavoured 
to  assume  that  firmness  he  did  not  really  possess.  By  a 
violent  effort  I  forced  myself  to  assume  a  sort  of  resig- 
nation. 

<(Am  I  required  to  depart  immediately?8  inquired  I. 

<(  No, "  said  the  duke ;  (<  to  leave  the  chateau  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  would  be  to  assume  the  air  of  a  flight, 
we  had  better  await  the  coming  day;  it  will,  besides,  af- 
ford time  to  apprize  the  duchess.* 

While  the  due  d'Aiguillon  was  thus  gone  to  arrange  for 
my  departure,  I  requested  to  be  left  alone.  My  heart  was 
oppressed,  and  I  felt  the  need  of  venting  my  grief  upon 
some  friendly  bosom.  After  a  few  moments,  spent  in 
collecting  my  thoughts,  I  addressed  two  letters,  one  to  the 
mare"chale  de  Mirepoix,  and  the  other  to  the  due  de  Cosse"; 
to  the  former  I  wrote  on  account  of  my  retirement  to 
Ruel,  bewailed  the  sad  turn  my  prospects  had  assumed, 
expressed  my  deep  concern  for  the  severe  illness  of  my 
excellent  friend  and  benefactor,  begging  of  her  to  defend 
my  character  from  all  unjust  attacks,  and  to  allow  me  to 
be  blamed  for  no  faults  but  such  as  I  had  really  been 
guilty  of.  I  concluded  with  these  words,  <(  I  set  out  at 
seven  o'clock  to-morrow  morning;  the  duchesse  d'Aiguillon 
will  conduct  me  to  Ruel,  where  I  shall  remain  until  I 
am  ordered  elsewhere. w 

To  the  duke  I  merely  sent  a  short  account  of  my 
present  prospects,  hour  of  departure,  etc.  And,  my  feel- 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  429 

ings  somewhat  relieved  by  the  penning  of  these  epistles, 
I  threw  myself  upon  a  couch  to  await  the  morning. 
Upon  awaking,  I  received  the  following  note  from  the 
duchesse  d'Aiguillon:  — 

<(  MADAME  LA  COMTESSE, —  I  owe  his  majesty  many  thanks  for  the 
pleasing,  yet  mournful,  task  he  has  allotted  me.  Your  kindness 
to  my  family,  independently  of  my  private  regard  for  you,  gives 
you  the  surest  claim  of  my  best  services  during  this  afflicting  period. 
Let  me  beseech  of  you  not  to  despair,  but  cheerfully  anticipate 
brighter  days. 

<{  I  will  call  for  you  at  seven  o'clock,  and  if  you  approve  of  it,  we 
will  use  my  carriage.  Ruel  is  entirely  at  your  disposal  and  that  of 
your  family.* 

This  note  was  truly  characteristic  of  its  amiable  writer, 
who  at  court  passed  for  a  cold-hearted,  frigid  being, 
whilst,  in  reality,  the  warm  feelings  of  her  excellent 
heart  were  reserved  for  her  chosen  friends. 

I  have  never  admired  those  general  lovers  who  profess 
to  love  every  one,  nor  do  I  feel  quite  sure  it  is  a  very 
strong  recommendation  to  say  a  person  is  beloved  by  all 
who  know  her.  Read,  now,  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
short  but  sympathizing  billet  of  madame  d'Aiguillon,  in 
the  following  heartless  letter  from  the  mare'chale  de 
Mirepoix,  which  was  put  into  my  hands  as  I  was  ascend- 
ing the  carriage. 

«MY  LOVELY  COUNTESS,  —  I  am  all  astonishment!  Can  it  be  possi- 
ble that  you  are  to  quit  Versailles  ?  You  are  right  in  saying  you  have 
been  the  friend  of  every  one,  and  those  who  could  speak  ill  of  you 
are  to  be  pitied  for  not  having  had  better  opportunities  of  under- 
standing your  real  character.  But  fear  not,  the  dauphiness  is  virtue 
personified,  and  the  dauphin  equally  perfect.  Every  thing  promises 
a  peaceful  and  indulgent  reign,  should  we  have  the  misfortune  to  lose 
his  present  majesty.  Still  there  will  always  be  a  great  void  left  at 
Versailles;  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  have  passed  so  much  of  my 
time  with  you,  that  I  cannot  imagine  what  I  shall  do  with  my  even- 
ings; it  will  cost  me  much  of  my  age  to  alter  habits  and  customs 
now  so  long  fixed  and  settled,  but  such  is  life;  nothing  certain, 
nothing  stable.  We  should  imitate  cats  in  our  attachments,  and  rather 
identify  ourselves  with  the  house  than  the  possessor  of  it.  I  trust 
you  have  secured  an  ample  provision  for  the  future;  neglect  not  the 
present,  to-morrow  may  come  in  vain  for  you. 


430  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

wBe  sure  you  let  me  know  the  spot  to  which  you  permanently  re- 
tire, and  I  will  endeavour  to  see  you  as  frequently  as  my  engage- 
ments will  admit  of.  Adieu,  ma  belle  petite. » 

Spite  of  the  bitterness  of  my  feelings,  this  letter  drew 
a  smile  to  my  lips;  the  allusion  to  cats  which  had  es- 
caped the  mar6chale  exactly  applied  to  her  own  character, 
of  which  I  had  been  warned  before  I  became  acquainted 
with  her;  but  her  protestations  of  warm  and  unutterable 
attachment  had  gained  my  confidence,  and  I  allowed  my- 
self to  be  guided  implicitly  by  her. 

The  duchesse  d'Aiguillon  was  waiting  for  me  while  I 
perused  the  above  letter;  at  length,  with  a  sigh,  I  pre- 
pared to  quit  that  palace  of  delights  where  I  had  reigned 
absolute  mistress.  I  cast  a  mournful  look  around  me, 
on  those  splendid  walks,  fountains  and  statues,  worthy 
the  gardens  of  Armida,  but  where  there  reigned,  at  this 
early  hour,  a  sort  of  gloomy  silence;  whilst,  in  that 
chamber  where  love  had  well  nigh  deified  me  and 
recognised  me  as  queen  of  France,  lay  extended  the 
monarch  so  lately  my  protector  and  friend. 

It  was  the  Wednesday  of  the  fifth  of  May  that  I  took 
my  seat  in  the  carriage  of  the  duchesse  d'Aiguillon  ac- 
companied by  my  sister-in-law  and  the  vicomtesse  Adolphe, 
who  would  not  forsake  me.  Bischi  remained  with  madame 
d'Hargicourt,  whose  duties  detained  her  with  the  com- 
tesse  d'Artois.  Her  husband  also  remained  at  Versailles, 
while  comte  Jean  and  his  son  proceeded  to  Paris.  I  will 
not  attempt  to  describe  the  emotions  with  which  I  quitted 
my  magnificent  suite  of  apartments,  and  traversed  the 
halls  and  staircases  already  crowded  by  persons  anxiously 
awaiting  the  first  intimation  of  the  king's  decease.  I  was 
wrapped  in  my  pelisse,  and  effectually  eluded  observation. 
It  has  been  said  that  I  left  Versailles  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  "morning,  but  that  was  a  mere  invention  on  the  part 
of  my  servants  to  baffle  the  curiosity  of  those  who  might 
have  annoyed  me  by  their  presence. 

We  pursued  our  way  in  mournful  reflection,  whilst 
madame  d'Aiguillon,  with  her  wonted  goodness,  sought 
by  every  means  to  distract  me  from  the  dejection  in 
which  I  was  buried.  Her  husband,  who  remained  with 


COMTESSE    DU   BARRY  431 

the  king,  engaged  to  write  me  a  true  account  of  all  that 
transpired  during  my  absence,  and  I  shall  very  shortly 
present  you  with  a  specimen  of  the  fidelity  with  which 
he  performed  his  promise.  The  duchess  did  the  honours 
of  Ruel. 

"Here,"  said  she,  <(the  great  cardinal  Richelieu  loved 
to  repose  himself  from  the  bustle  and  turmoil  of  a 
court. w 

<(  I  think, >J  answered  I,  *  it  would  have  been  less  a 
favourite  with  his  eminence  had  it  been  selected  for  his 
abode  on  the  eve  of  his  disgrace.® 

Immediately  upon  my  arrival  I  retired  to  bed,  for  fa- 
tigue had  so  completely  overpowered  me  that  I  fell  into 
a  heavy  slumber,  from  which  I  did  not  awake  till  the 
following  day;  when  I  found  the  duchesse  d'Aiguillon, 
my  sister-in-law,  Genevieve  Mathon,  and  Henriette,  seated 
by  my  bed:  the  sight  of  them  was  cheering  and  gratify- 
ing proof  of  my  not  being  as  yet  abandoned  by  all  the 
world. 

I  arose,  and  we  were  just  about  to  take  our  places  at 
table,  when  madame  de  Forcalquier  arrived.  I  must 
confess  that  her  presence  was  an  agreeable  surprise  to 
me ;  I  was  far  from  reckoning  on  her  constancy  in  friend- 
ship, and  her  present  conduct  proved  her  worthy  of  her 
excellent  friend,  madame  Boncault,  whose  steady  attach- 
ment I  had  so  frequently  heard  extolled.  The  sight  of 
her  imparted  fresh  courage  to  me,  and  I  even  resumed 
my  usual  high  spirits,  and  in  the  sudden  turn  my  ideas 
had  taken,  was  childish  enough  to  express  my  regrets 
for  the  loss  of  my  downy  and  luxurious  bed  at  Versailles, 
complaining  of  the  woful  difference  between  it  and  the 
one  I  naci  slept  on  at  Ruel. 

The  duchesse  d'Aiguillon,  who  must  have  pitied  the 
puerility  of  such  a  remark,  gently  endeavoured  to  reconcile 
me  to  it  by  reminding  me  that  both  the  marquise  de 
Pompadour  and  the  cardinal  de  Richelieu  had  reposed 
upon  that  very  couch. 

I  endeavoured  to  return  some  sportive  reply,  but  my 
thoughts  had  flown  back  to  Versailles,  and  my  momen- 
tary exhilaration  was  at  an  end.  Tears  rose  to  my  eyes 


432  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

and  choked  my  attempts  at  conversation;  I  therefore 
begged  the  duchess  would  excuse  me,  and  retired  to  my 
apartment  until  I  could  compose  myself;  but  the  kind 
and  attentive  friend  to  whose  hospitality  I  was  then  con- 
fided needed  no  further  mention  of  my  hard  couch,  but 
caused  the  best  bed  Ruel  contained  to  be  prepared  for 
me  by  the  time  I  again  pressed  my  pillow. 

This  same  evening  brought  M.  de  Cosse",  who  could  no 
longer  repress  his  impatience  to  assure  me  of  his  entire 
devotion.  He  appeared,  on  this  occasion,  if  possible,  more 
tender  and  more  respectful  in  his  manner  of  evincing  it 
than  ever. 

We  supped  together  without  form  or  ceremony,  the 
party  consisting  of  mesdames  d'Aiguillon,  de  Forcalquier, 
and  myself,  mademoiselle  du  Barry,  and  the  vicomtesse 
Adolphe,  the  prince  de  Soubise  and  the  due  de  Cosse". 
But  the  meal  passed  off  in  sorrowful  silence;  each  of  us 
seemed  to  abstain  from  conversation  as  though  the 
slightest  remark  might  come  fraught  with  some  painful 
allusion.  On  the  following  day  I  received  the  letter  from 
the  due  d'Aiguillon  which  you  will  find  in  the  following 
chapter. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

The   due  d'Aiguillon's  first  letter  —  The  marechale  de  Mirepoix — A 
second  letter  from  the  due  d'Aiguillon  —  Numerous  visitors. 

(  (  T»  yr  Y  MUCH  ESTEEMED  FRIEND,  —  I  promised  you  upon  your  depar- 
/  V 1  ture  to  inf°rm  y°u  °f  a^  ^at  transpired,  and  although  the 
task  is  a  mournful  one,  I  will  do  my  best  to  acquit  myself 
with  zeal  and  sincerity,  and  each  evening  I  will  write  you  an  exact 
detail  of  all  that  has  occurred  during  the  day.  The  king  remains 
much  as  you  left  him,  and  you  must  know  that  already  his  medical 
attendants  differ  in  their  opinion  respecting  him — Lemonnier  utterly 
despairing  of  his  recovery,  while  Bordeu  is  most  sanguine  that  he 
shall  be  enabled  to  restore  him  to  health.  La  Martiniere  persists  in 
his  assertion  that  the  attention  of  the  king  should  be  immediately  di- 
rected to  his  spiritual  concerns.  The  archbishop  of  Paris  remains 
until  called  for  in  the  ante-chamber,  and  the  princesses  never  leave 
the  bedside  of  their  august  parent. 

<(  The  king  spoke  with  me  concerning  you  for  some  time  this  morn- 
ing, and  I  can  assure  you,  you  are  the  first  object  in  his  thoughts; 
he  has  begged  of  me  never  to  forsake  you,  and  has  deigned  to  re- 
pose in  me  the  enviable  post  of  your  future  protector.  <I  bequeath 
my  beloved  friend  to  your  fidelity,  >  added  the  suffering  prince.  I 
took  advantage  of  this  opportunity  to  remark  that  I  looked  upon  your 
quitting  Versailles  as  too  precipitate  and  premature  a  step.  <  No,  no,* 
replied  the  king,  <I  have  acted  for  the  best;  I  have  once  been  de- 
ceived as  to  my  condition,  and  I  would  willingly  prevent  being  again 
taken  by  surprise.  Tell  my  beloved  and  excellent  countess  how  truly 
I  love  her  > ;  and  hearing  the  prince  de  Soubise  mention  his  design  of 
supping  at  Ruel,  he  charged  him  to  embrace  you  for  him. 

«The  dauphin  still  remains  secluded  in  his  apartment,  but  I  know 
that  he  keeps  up  a  regular  correspondence  with  madame  Victoire, 
whose  letters,  after  being  immersed  in  vinegar,  are  carried  to  the 
comte  de  Muy,  who  fumigates  them  previously  to  allowing  them  to 
reach  the  hands  of  the  dauphin. 

<(  I  am,  etc.,  etc. 

«  VERSAILLES,  May  j,  1774,  nine  o'clock,  evening. ^ 

Upon  awaking  the  following  morning  I  again   received 
news  of   the    king,  who  was  stated  to  have  passed  a  good 
28  (433) 


434  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

night,  and  even  La  Martiniere  seemed  inclined  to  hope. 
As  yet,  then,  there  were  no  safe  grounds  for  abandoning 
me,  and  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  was  fa- 
voured with  a  visit  from  madame  de  Mirepoix,  who,  run- 
ning up  to  me,  exclaimed  with  her  usual  vivacity, 

<(Oh,  my  dear  creature,  how  I  longed  to  see  you!®  and 
then  leading  me  into  another  chamber,  she  added, 

(<  Do  you  know  I  quite  missed  you  ?  As  I  wrote  you, 
my  time  hung  heavily  on  my  hands.  What  in  the  world 
will  become  of  me  if  I  am  compelled  to  resign  the  de- 
lightful hours  granted  to  the  envied  few  who  are  per- 
mitted the  entree  to  the  petits  appartements?  For  you 
see,  my  dear,  the  dauphiness  will  be  far  from  bestowing 
that  honour  upon  me.  I  am  too  old  to  form  one  of  her 
coterie,  and  I  shall  be  laid  aside  like  the  rest  of  the 
antiquities  of  the  chateau.  By  the  way,"  continued 
the  voluble  mare'chale,  <(  there  is  already  a  great  cabal  in  the 
chateau  respecting  the  formation  of  a  new  ministry,  in 
which,  besides  desiring  lucrative  posts  for  themselves,  all 
are  anxious  to  introduce  their  private  friends;  in  the 
midst  of  so  many  absorbing  interests  you  appear  to  be 
already  forgotten,  which,  by  the  way,  is  no  bad  thing 
for  you.  Your  best  plan  is  to  remain  perfectly  tranquil.  * 
Then  rapidly  passing  to  her  most  prevailing  idea,  this 
excellent  friend  proceeded  to  inquire  what  the  king  had 
bestowed  on  me  as  a  parting  present,  <(  for, w  said  she,  <(  he 
would  not  certainly  permit  you  to  leave  Versailles  empty- 
handed.  w 

"It  is  a  point,"  replied  I,  "that  neither  his  majesty  nor 
myself  once  thought  of. " 

(<  Then  such  an  omission  proves  him  a  vile  egotist,  and 
you  a  prodigious  simpleton,  *  answered  she ;  <(  and  were  I 
in  your  place,  I  would  commission  the  due  d'Aiguillon  to 
make  a  direct  demand  of  a  future  provision  for  you ;  you 
really  should  see  about  this,  and  secure  to  yourself  a 
noble  establishment  for  yourself  and  your  friends,  who 
ought  not  to  suffer  for  your  overstrained  delicacy.  Look 
at  the  due  de  Choiseul,  who  has  kept  a  regular  court  at 
Chanteloup,  and  never  wanted  for  a  train  of  courtiers 
at  it.» 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  435 

After  this  lesson  of  worldly  wisdom,  the  excellent  mare"- 
chale  gave  me  a  friendly  kiss,  returned  to  her  carriage, 
and  I  saw  her  no  more  during  my  stay  at  Ruel. 

The  evening  brought  with  it  a  second  letter  from  the 
due  d'Aiguillon,  it  was  as  follows:  — 

<(  MADAM,  —  I  hasten  to  acquaint  you  with  the  pleasing  information 
of  his  majesty  being  considerably  better ;  his  strength  appears  to  have 
returned,  and  he  himself,  in  the  consciousness  of  improving  health, 
expressed  aloud  his  regret  for  having  been  so  hasty  in  advising  your 
removal  from  him.  He  has  continually  repeated,  (How  weak  and 
selfish  of  me  thus  to  afflict  my  dearest  countess!  would  you  not  ad- 
vise me,  my  friend,  to  request  her  immediate  .return  ? J  Of  course, 
my  reply  was  in  the  affirmative.  His  majesty  then  put  the  same 
question  to  the  due  de  Richelieu,  who  answered,  that  in  his  opinion 
it  was  the  best  plan  he  could  decide  upon.  The  bulletin  signed  by 
the  different  physicians  accompanies  this:  it  leaves  me  nothing  to  add 
but  to  recommend  your  bearing  with  patience  this  temporary  absence 
from  court,  to  which  you  will  ere  long  return,  "more  idolized,  more 
sought  after,  than  ever.  The  due  de  la  Vrilliere  and  the  abb6  Terray 
present  the  assurance  of  their  unbounded  respect  and  devotion, 
etc.,  etc.® 

The  duchess,  my  sister-in-law,  and  niece  shared  in  joy 
at  such  gratifying  intelligence,  and  the  ensuing  day 
brought  a  concourse  of  visitors  to  Ruel;  indeed,  any  one 
might  have  supposed  that  fresh  swarms  of  flatterers  and 
courtiers  had  been  created  only  to  swell  my  number  of 
humble  and  obsequious  adorers.  I  bestowed  on  each  un- 
meaning guest  a  smiling  welcome,  for  indeed,  my  heart 
was  too  light  and  I  felt  too  happy  to  be  enabled  to  frown 
even  upon  those  who,  when  the  storm  appeared  near, 
had  basely  deserted  me. 

It  was  amusing  enough  to  see  with  what  zeal  any  per- 
son, whom  I  had  previously  recommended  was  assisted 
by  the  various  ministers  in  the  pursuit  of  their  object; 
the  petit  saint  found  himself  all  at  once  at  leisure  to  pay 
his  respects  to  me.  He  confirmed  all  the  kind  messages 
sent  me  by  the  king  through  the  due  d'Aiguillon. 
Madame  de  Mirepoix,  who  had  visited  me  the  preceding 
evening,  reserved  her  next  call  for  the  following  day, 
but  a  few  hours  effected  a  cruel  change  in  my  fortune. 


CHAPTER     XL  VI. 

A  third  letter  from  the  duke  —  The  king  receives  extreme  unction  — 
Letter  from  madame  Victoire  to  the  dauphin  —  M.  de  Machault  — 
A  promenade  with  the  due  de  Cosse — Kind  attention  from  the 
prince  des  Deux  Fonts — A  fourth  letter  from  the  due  d'Aiguillon 
—  Comte  Jean  bids  me  farewell  —  M.  d'Aiguillon's  fifth  letter,  con- 
taining an  account  of  the  death  of  Louis  XV.  —  The  due  de  la 
Vrilliere  —  The  lettre  de  cachet  —  Letter  to  the  queen  —  Departure 
for  the  abbey  of  Pont  aux  Dames. 

THE    account    received    in    the    evening   from    the    due 
d'Aiguillon    I    shall  not  transcribe,  as  it  was  merely 
a  repetition   of    the   good  tidings   of   the    morning. 
The  day  following  still  brought  a  continuation  of  favora- 
ble accounts,  but  the  next  letter  was  in  these  words:  — 

*  MADAM,  AND  MOST  HONORED  FRIEND, —  Arm  yourself  with  cour- 
age; the  king  is  extremely  ill,  and  I  ought  not  to  conceal  from  you 
that  serious  apprehensions  are  entertained  for  his  life ;  he  has  passed 
a  wretched  night.  His  daughters,  who  never  quitted  his  bedside, 
whispered  to  him  that  the  archbishop  of  Paris  and  his  grand  almoner 
were  in  the  anteroom  if  he  desired  to  see  them.  The  king  did  not 
seem  to  hear  their  words,  but  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  he 
called  the  due  de  Duras,  whom  he  bade  inquire  whether  M.  Man- 
doux  were  in  the  chateau;  and,  if  so,  to  apprize  him  he  wished  to 
speak  with  him. 

« At  these  words  the  princesses  and  all  who  heard  them  burst  into 
a  fit  of  weeping,  which  was  only  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  the 
confessor,  who,  approaching  the  bedside  of  the  penitent,  held  a  con- 
ference with  him  of  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour:  this  being 
concluded,  the  king,  in  a  low  and  firm  voice,  inquired  for  his 
almoner.  The  latter  soon  presented  himself,  anxious  to  discharge 
the  duties  of  his  sacred  office.  His  majesty  kept  continually  repeating 
to  his  afflicted  children,  <  My  daughters,  why  should  what  I  am  now 
about  to  do  agitate  or  alarm  you?  You  are  well  aware,  that  having  the 
small-pox,  the  etiquette  established  in  my  family  compels  me  to  re- 
ceive the  last  solemn  rites  of  the  church,  and  I  but  acquit  myself  of 
an  obligation  in  submitting  to  it.1 

«The  tone  in  which  the  king  spoke  convinced  his  attendants  that 
he  rather  strove  to  re-assure  himself  than  his  children,  by  the  per- 
(436) 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  437 


receiving  extreme  unction  was  not  so  much  the 
consequ  nce-jrof  his  own  dangerous  state  as  a  mere  act  of  obedience 
to  an  established  custom.  It  was  then  decided  that  the  sacred  cere- 
mony shouud  take  place  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning;  and  here 
arose  soiae  little  embarrassment ;  the  ecclesiastics  insisting  upon  the 
necessity  j  of  the  king's  making  some  striking  and  open  atonement  for 
what  th^fey  were  pleased  to  term  the  scandal  of  his  private  life. 

<(Th»e  king's  chamber  now  presented  a  picture  at  once  solemn  and 
gloomiy.  Grouped  together  on  one  side  the  bed  might  be  seen  the 
diffe'rent  noblemen  in  attendance  upon  his  majesty;  a  little  removed 
stor/od  the  clergy,  concealed  from  the  invalid  by  the  closely-drawn 
cu  rtains ;  in  the  midst  of  these  contending  parties  were  the  princesses 
going  from  one  to  the  other,  vainly  seeking  by  mild  and  gentle 
mediation  to  produce  a  satisfactory  arrangement.  It  was  at  length 
understood,  that,  on  account  of  the  extreme  weakness  of  the  invalid, 
the  grand  almoner  should  pronounce  in  his  name  a  kind  of  honor- 
able apology  for  past  offences. 

«You  can  scarcely  imagine,  madam,  the  universal  consternation 
spread  throughout  the  chateau  by  the  information  that  the  king  was 
about  to  receive  the  last  rites  of  his  church.  The  terror  and  alarm 
became  overpowering  for  a  while,  but  subsiding  into  a  more  religious 
feeling  crowds  of  persons  followed  with  solemn  reverence  the  holy 
procession  as  it  passed  along,  bearing  the  holy  sacrament  to  their  ex- 
piring monarch.  At  the  moment  when  it  was  administered  the  grand 
almoner,  turning  towards  all  present,  pronounced  the  following  words 
in  the  king's  name:  — 

<(  ( Gentlemen,  the  weakness  of  his  majesty  preventing  him  from 
expressing  himself,  he  has  commanded  me  to  inform  you,  that  al- 
though he  is  responsible  to  God  alone  for  his  conduct,  he  yet  regrets 
having  caused  any  scandal  to  his  people  by  the  irregularities  of  his 
life,  that  he  sincerely  repents  of  his  sins;  and,  should  Providence  re- 
store him  to  health,  he  purposes  living  henceforward  in  all  the  virtue 
and  morality  of  his  youth,  in  the  defence  and  maintenance  of  re- 
ligion, in  preserving  a  true  faith,  and  in  watching  over  the  best 
interests  of  his  people. J 

<( Yours,  madam,  etc.,  etc.* 

I  learned  also,  through  another  channel,  that  (accord- 
ing to  custom)  forty  hours'  prayer  had  been  enjoined  in 
every  church  in  France  to  implore  the  mercy  of  heaven 
for  the  king.  I  heard  too  that  the  shrine  of  Saint 
Genevieve  had  been  displayed  for  the  veneration  of  true 
believers. 

I  passed  a  miserable  night,  dreaming  of  graves,  wind- 
ing-sheets, and  funeral-torches,  from  which  I  only  awoke 
to  receive  the  morning's  despatches.  Alas!  the  news  but 


438  MEMOIRS   OF  JEANNE   VAUBER 

confirmed  the  distressing  state  of  the  king.  Tie  very 
solitude  in  which  I  was  left  at  Ruel  might  dlone  have 
served  to  convince  me  of  my  misfortune;  for,  with  the 
exception  of  the  due  de  Coss6,  no  person  came  iear  us. 
M.  de  Cosse"  invited  me  to  walk  with  him  in  the  p-arden; 
I  accepted  the  arm  of  this  noble  friend,  and  we  directed 
our  steps  towards  the  wood.  When  we  were  the.-e  se- 
cure from  interruption,  the  duke  inquired  what  were.  my 
plans  for  the  future  ? 

<(  How  can  I  tell  you, *  answered  I ;  <(  what  is  henoe. 
forward  to  be  my  fate  is  better  known  to  our  futu-e 
queen  than  to  myself.* 

"That  is  precisely  what  I  dread,*  replied  M.  de  Cosse". 
w  Unfortunately  you  have  deeply  offended  the  queen  elect, 
who  has  irritated  her  husband's  mind  against  you;  and 
then  the  Choiseul  faction  will,  in  all  probability,  come 
into  power.* 

<(  I  see  all  this, *  returned  I,  <(  and  am  prepared  for 
whatever  may  happen.* 

<(  I  admire  your  calmness  in  a  moment  like  the  present, * 
cried  the  duke;  <(but  have  a  care.  Perhaps  the  best 
thing  would  be  to  remove  you  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
first  shock  of  court  displeasure.  In  your  place  I  would 
request  passports  from  the  due  d'Aiguillon  and  travel  into 
England.* 

ftOh,  speak  not  of  such  a  thing,  I  conjure  you,*  inter- 
rupted I ;  <(  I  have  a  horror  of  such  journeys,  and  would 
much  rather  trust  to  the  generosity  of  the  dauphiness.  She 
is  about  to  become  a  great  queen,  while  I  shall  be  a 
creature  so  humiliated  and  abased,  that  the  very  differ- 
ence between  our  situations  will  be  a  sufficient  vengeance 
in  her  eyes.* 

We  returned  to  the  house,  and  had  scarcely  entered, 
when  M.  de  Palchelbel,  plenipotentiary  to  the  prince 
des  Deux  Fonts,  was  announced. 

<(  M.  de  Palchelbel,*  cried  I,  extending  my  hand, 
w  what  good  wind  brings  you  here  ?  * 

<(  I  have  been  honoured  by  the  commands  of  the  prince, 
my  master,  madam,*  replied  he,  <(to  bring  you  the  as- 
surances of  his  unalterable  friendship ;  and  to  say  further, 


COMTESSE   DU    BARRY  439 

that  whenever  you  feel  dissatisfied  with  your  residence 
in  France,  you  will  find  at  Deux  Fonts  an  asylum,  which 
the  most  earnest  endeavors  of  the  prince,  my  gracious 
patron,  will  strive  to  render  agreeable  to  you.* 

I  was  much  affected  by  this  mark  of  generous  regard 
on  the  part  of  prince  Charles  Auguste;  and,  turning 
quickly  towards  the  duke,  I  exclaimed, 

(<  What  think  you  of  all  this  ?  Will  you  henceforward 
believe  those  self-dubbed  philosophers,  who  assert  that 
friendship  is  unknown  to  royalty  ?  You  have  here  a 
proof  of  the  contrary.  For  my  own  part,  M.  de  Palchel- 
bel, *  continued  I,  turning  towards  the  minister,  "  I  am 
much  gratified  by  your  message,  and  entreat  of  you  to 
thank  his  royal  highness  most  sincerely  for  me.  I  will 
write  to  him  myself  on  the  subject,  but  beg  of  you  to 
repeat  that,  kind  as  are  his  offers,  I  cannot  accept  of 
them;  but  shall  certainly  remain  in  France  until  the  new 
sovereign  commands  or  permits  me  to  quit  it.* 

I  afterwards  repeated  to  the  minister  of  Deux  Fonts 
what  I  had  previously  stated  in  the  garden  to  M.  de 
Cosse",  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  madame 
d'Aiguillon  approve  of  my  sentiments. 

When  I  retired  to  my  apartment  I  was  followed  by 
my  niece. 

(<  How  happy  are  you,  dear  aunt,*  said  she,  "to  pre- 
serve such  friends  in  your  present  troubles.* 

"I  owe  them,*  replied  I,  (<to  my  simplicity  and  candor.* 

"  Will  you  not  retire  to  Germany  ?  * 

"Certainly  not,*  answered  I. 

"Yet  it  would  be  better  to  allow  the  first  burst  of 
displeasure  on  the  part  of  the  dauphiness  to  pass  over.* 

*  Who  gave  you  this  counsel,  my  dear  niece  ?  I  am 
quite  sure  it  does  not  originate  in  yourself.* 

"I  had  promised  not  to  tell,*  answered  she;  "but  if 
you  insist  upon  it,  I  must  confess,  that  I  was  persuaded 
by  the  prince  de  Conde*  and  M.  de  Soubise  to  urge  you 
to  follow  it.* 

"  Do  they  then  wish  for  my  absence  ?  *  inquired  I,  an- 
grily. 

"Only  for  your  own  sake,  dearest  aunt.* 


440  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

*  I  thank  them ;  but  my  resolution  is  formed  to  com- 
mit myself  entirely  to  Providence  in  this  melancholy 
affair.  * 

The  day  passed  on;  and  with  feverish  impatience  I 
waited  the  arrival  of  the  next  courier:  he  came,  at  length, 
and  confirmed  my  worst  fears;  the  king  was  entirely 
given  over  by  his  physicians,  and  his  dissolution  was 
hourly  expected.  The  letter  containing  this  mournful 
tidings  concluded  thus:  — 

« I  have  just  seen  comte  Jean,  he  is  here  incognito.  We  had  en- 
tirely forgotten  that  passports  would  be  necessary;  however,  I  have 
now  furnished  him  with  four  for  England,  Germany,  Italy,  and  Swit- 
zerland. The  count  is  far  from  partaking  of  your  sense  of  security, 
and  is  wisely  anxious  (as  I  think)  of  shielding  himself  from  the  first 
burst  of  royal  vengeance.  The  duchess  has  informed  me  of  your  re- 
fusal of  an  asylum  at  Deux  Fonts ;  and,  while  I  admire  your  courage, 
permit  me  to  add,  that  you  should  rather  have  listened  to  the  dic- 
tates of  prudence  than  magnanimity  under  present  circumstances.  * 

The  following  morning,  at  an  early  hour,  comte  Jean 
entered  my  chamber,  saying, 

"I  understand  the  king  is  dead;  have  you  heard  any- 
thing of  it  ? » 

<(  Were  the  report  correct, w  answered  I,  (<  I  should  have 
known  it  ere  the  intelligence  reached  Paris.8 

"Well,  living  or  dead,  I  am  advised  to  keep  out  of  the 
way;  and  this  night  will  see  me  on  my  journey  from 
Paris.  Will  you  accompany  me  ?  M 

<(  No, w  replied  I ;  (<  I  have  refused  travelling  with  a 
much  more  creditable  companion  than  yourself.  * 

"There  you  are  wrong  then;  for,  depend  upon  it,  a 
cloister  will  be  your  fate:  at  any  rate  my  business  here 
is  at  an  end.  The  new  monarch  is  young,  and  attached 
to  his  wife,  and  my  daughter-in-law  is  too  great  a  sim- 
pleton to  be  turned  to  any  account  at  court.* 

My  brother-in-law  then  requested  I  would  furnish  him 
with  money.  I  gave  him  what  I  had,  and  placed  in  his 
hands  diamonds  to  the  value  of  30,000  francs.  He  was 
very  anxious  to  obtain  all  my  jewels,  under  pretence  of 
conveying  them  safely  out  of  the  kingdom,  but  this  I  was 
too  wise  to  agree  to;  he  would  have  staked  them  at  the 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  441 

first  gaming-table  he  met  with.  We  separated  without 
much  emotion  on  either  side.  He  next  took  leave  of 
Chon  and  his  daughter-in-law;  the  former  wept  bitterly, 
for  she  was  a  most  excellent  and  amiable  girl ;  but  the  lat- 
ter, who  knew  but  too  much  of  the  villainy  of  her  father- 
in-law,  could  scarcely  repress  her  joy  at  his  departure. 
Comte  Jean  perceived  it;  and,  according  to  his  brutal 
custom,  indulged  in  a  coarse  jest  at  her  expense;  for  one 
of  his  maxims  was  to  hold  all  women  in  sovereign  con- 
tempt but  such  as  could  be  useful  to  him.  For  my  own 
part,  his  absence  gave  me  something  like  a  feeling  of 
pleasure;  his  presence  was  wearisome  to  me;  it  was  like 
the  dregs  of  the  cup  which  had  intoxicated  my  senses. 

During  the  day  several  false  reports  arrived  of  the  death 
of  the  king;  but  at  length,  about  half  past  four  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  I  received  the  following  letter:  — 

(<  MADAM, —  You  have  lost  your  best  friend  and.  I  an  excellent 
master:  at  three  o'clock  this  day  his  majesty  breathed  his  last.  I 
can  scarcely  describe  to  you  the  horrors  of  his  death-bed.  The  prin- 
cesses Adelaide  and  Sophie  braved  the  frightful  contagion  to  the  last, 
and  never  quitted  him  till  the  last  spark  had  flown.  Alas!  with  the 
exception  of  themselves,  every  attendant  openly  expressed  their 
weariness  and  disgust. 

<(  For  several  days  the  physicians  have  forbidden  the  windows  to 
be  opened;  and  those  condemned  to  inhale  the  pestilential  vapor  of 
the  room  vainly  sought  to  counteract  them  by  every  powerful  fumiga- 
tion. Alas,  madam,  what  is  a  king  when  he  can  no  longer  grasp  the 
sceptre?  How  great  a  leveller  is  death!  The  prelates  had  aban- 
doned the  sick  chamber,  and  left  a  simple  cure  of  the  chapel  to  take 
their  place ;  the  lords  in  waiting  and  other  officers  shrunk  from  the 
duties  of  their  office,  and,  with  their  eyes  fixed  on  a  time-piece  ea- 
gerly awaited  the  hour  which  should  free  them  from  it.  The  princesses, 
who  perceived  this  impatience,  durst  make  no  complaint,  while  the 
king,  occasionally  recovering  his  senses,  uttered  broken  sentences, 
expressive  of  the  religious  terror  which  had  seized  his  mind.  At 
length,  at  a  few  minutes  past  three  o'clock,  Lemonnier,  in  his 
capacity  of  first  physician,  said,  after  laying  his  hand  upon  the  heart 
of  the  patient,  and  placing  a  glass  before  his  lips,  <The  king  is  dead.* 
At  these  words  all  present  strove  with  indecent  haste  to  quit  the 
chamber;  not  a  single  sigh,  not  one  regret  was  heard.  The  prin- 
cesses were  carried  insensible  to  their  apartments. 

<(The  extinction  of  a  bougie  which  had  been  placed  in  a  certain 
window,  announced  the  accession  of  the  dauphin  ere  the  due 
d'Aumont  had  informed  him  of  the  decease  of  his  august  grandsire.* 


442  MEMOIRS   OP  JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

This  letter  wrung  from  me  some  bitter  tears,  as  well 
for  the  king,  who  had  so  lavishly  bestowed  his  affections 
upon  me,  as  for  myself.  What  would  now  be  my  fate  ? 
Alas!  I  knew  not;  all  my  brilliant  prospects  were  buried 
in  the  coffin  of  my  late  protector. 

The  due  d'Aiguillon  arrived  at  Ruel  about  midnight; 
he,  as  well  as  the  other  ministers  who  had  been  about 
the  late  monarch  during  his  last  illness,  being  prohibited 
by  etiquette  from  following  the  present  monarch  to  Choisy, 
whither  the  whole  of  the  royal  family  had  retired  for  a 
few  days.  He  told  us  that  the  due  d'Aumont,  having 
commanded  La  Martiniere  to  proceed  with  the  embalm- 
ing of  the  royal  corpse,  that  physician  replied,  (<  Cer- 
tainly, my  lord,  it  shall  be  done  if  you  command  it,  but, 
in  that  case,  the  duties  of  your  office  compel  you  to  re- 
ceive his  majesty's  bowels  in  a  golden  dish;  and  I  pro- 
test, that  such  is  the  state  of  the  body,  that  of  all  who 
may  assist  at  the  operation,  not  one  will  survive  eight 
days.  It  is  for  your  grace  to  determine  what  shall  be 
done. J> 

M.  d'Aumont  thought  no  more  of  embalming  his  late 
master,  but  gave  orders  for  the  body  being  immediately 
placed  in  a  leaden  coffin,  from  which  there  still  issued 
frightful  effluvia. 

Up  to  the  moment  of  my  quitting  Ruel  madame  de 
Mirepoix  gave  me  no  token  of  recollection:  I  heard 
that  herself  and  the  prince  de  Beauvau  were  reconciled, 
and  for  her  sake  I  rejoiced  at  it.  No  person  came  near 
us  the  whole  of  the  day  with  the  exception  of  M.  de 
Cosse",  and  I  sat  in  hourly  expectation  of  some  order 
from  court.  At  length  we  descried  a  travelling  carriage 
with  six  horses,  proceeding  at  a  rapid  pace  up  the 
avenue.  *  I  know  that  livery,  *  exclaimed  I ;  (<  'tis  that  of 
my  humble  adorer,  my  obsequious  slave,  my  friend  at 
court,  the  due  de  la  Vrilliere,  commonly  called  le  petit 
saint.  You  see  that  the  good  soul  could  not  delegate  to 
another  the  pleasing  task  of  arresting  me;  but  permit 
me  to  retire  to  my  apartment ;  it  is  fitting  he  should  .seek 
me  there  if  he  has  any  communication  to  make  to  me." 
The  duchess  approved  my  resolution;  and  the  due  de  la 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  443 

Vrilliere  having  been  introduced  into  the  salon,  after  the 
first  compliments,  requested  to  see  me,  that  he  might 
acquaint  me  with  the  king's  pleasure. 

Mademoiselle  du  Barry  undertook  to  inform  me  of  the 
duke's  arrival. 

<(You  were  not  mistaken,  dear  sister,"  said  she;  "the 
due  de  la  Vrilliere  is  the  bearer  of  the  king's  orders  re- 
specting you:  but  compose  yourself,  I  beseech  you.* 

"  Fear  not, *  said  I ;  <(  I  am  as  calm  as  you  would  have  me. 
Tell  the  vile  dissembler,  I  mean  the  duke,  I  await  him.* 

M.  Tartuffe  was  but  a  faint  copy  of  le  petit  saint  as 
he  presented  himself  before  me.  His  manners  still  re- 
tained part  of  their  former  servility,  but  there  was  a 
lurking  smile  about  him,  which  proved  how  well  he  was 
pleased  with  the  part  he  had  to  perform. 

He  approached  me  with  lingering  steps  and  an  air  of 
mysterious  importance,  while  a  sort  of  sardonic  grin  con- 
tradicted the  sorrow  he  endeavored  to  force  into  his 
countenance.  For  my  own  part,  I  caused  the  folding- 
doors  to  be  thrown  open,  and  advancing  ceremoniously, 
stood  to  receive  the  orders  of  the  king.  I  bowed  stiffly 
and  silently;  and,  with  something  like  a  malicious  satis- 
faction, I  witnessed  the  embarrassment  into  which  my 
cool  and  collected  manner  threw  him. 

"Madam,*  said  he  at  last,  "I  have  a  painful  duty  to 
perform :  in  a  word,  I  am  the  bearer  of  a  lettre  de  cachet.  * 

"Well,  sir!*  said  I,  tranquilly. 

"  Madam,  I  must  request  you  to  believe  how  greatly  I 
regret  the  task  imposed  upon  me;  but  my  duty  and  obe- 
dience to  the  king  —  * 

"Would  enable  you  to  strangle  your  nearest  relative. 
All  that  is  well  known;  but,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is 
base,  'cowardly,  and  unmanly,  could  no  one  but  you  be 
found  to  remind  a  distressed  and  afflicted  woman  that  she 
has  lost  her  only  friend  and  support  ? w 

"  Madam,  I  repeat,  obedience  —  necessity  —  * 

((  Enough,  sir ;  I  pity  you.  * 

<(  Madam,  you  outrage  the  king  in  my  person.  * 

"  No,  sir ;  I  respect  the  king  too  highly  to  believe  that 
there  could  ever  be  any  relation  between  him  and  one 


444  MEMOIRS   OF   JEANNE   VAUBERNIER 

who  is  too  contemptible  to  remind  me  that  he  was  but  a 
few  days  back  the  most  cringing  of  my  servile  slaves.* 
Le  petit  saint,  boiling  with  rage,  with  an  unsteady 
hand,  unfolded  and  read,  in  a  trembling  voice,  the  follow- 
ing words: 

«MADAME  LA  COMTESSE  DU  BARRY, —  For  reasons,  which  have  for 
their  object  the  preservation  of  the  tranquillity  of  my  kingdom,  and 
the  prevention  of  any  state  secrets  confided  to  you  being  prormil- 
gated,  I  send  this  order  for  your  immediate  removal  to  Pont  aux 
Dames,  accompanied  by  one  female  attendant  only,  and  under  the 
escort  of  the  exempt  who  has  the  necessary  orders.  This  measure 
is  by  no  means  intended  to  be  either  disagreeable  or  of  long  dura- 
tion. I  therefore  pray  God  to  have  you  in  his  holy  keeping. 

«(Signed)         Louis.» 

<(That,  madam,"  continued  the  duke,  ttis  his  majesty's 
pleasure,  and  you  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  submit.* 

<(  Your  advice  was  not  asked,  my  lord,  *  returned  I ;  (<  I 
honor  and  obey  the  king's  slightest  wish,  but  your  pres- 
ence is  no  longer  requisite ;  you  will  therefore  be  pleased 
to  rid  me  of  it.3* 

The  duke,  resuming  his  air  of  mock  humility,  bowed 
low,  and  departed. 

When  I  was  alone,  I  must  confess  a  few  tears  escaped 
me,  but  I  soon  wiped  them  away;  my  resolution  was 
taken. 

The  duchesse  d'Aiguillon  and  my  female  friends  has- 
tened to  question  me  relative  to  the  duke's  visit.  I 
showed  them  the  lettre  de  cachet,  which  confirmed  the  mis- 
fortune they  had  suspected  from  seeing  Hamond,  who 
was  to  be  my  escort,  waiting  in  the  anteroom  to  conduct 
me  to  the  abbey  of  Pont  aux  Dames,  near  Meaux,  the 
place  of  my  exile.  They  all  evinced  the  utmost  sorrow, 
and  both  Chon  and  my  niece  protested  that  with  the 
king's  permission,  they  would  willingly  attend  me  in  my 
seclusion.  I  felt  grateful  for  this  mark  of  attachment; 
then  sending  for  the  exempt,  I  inquired  whether  I 
might  be  allowed  sufficient  time  to  write  a  letter,  and 
cause  a  few  necessary  preparations  to  be  made  ?  <(  Madam,  * 
replied  he,  (<my  only  orders  are  to  accompany  you  to 
Pont  aux  Dames,  the  hour  of  departure  is  left  to  yourself. B 


COMTESSE   DU   BARRY  445 

I  then  penned  a  few  hasty  lines  to  the  king,  indica- 
tive of  my  wishes  for  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  his 
reign,  of  my  ready  obedience  to  his  commands,  and  of 
my  earnest  wishes  that  my  sister-in-law  and  niece  might 
be  permitted  to  visit  me.  This  letter  I  was  promised 
should  be  punctually  delivered.  I  had  now  the  painful 
duty  to  perform  of  choosing  between  Henriette  and 
Genevieve,  as  only  one  attendant  was  allowed  me  at 
Pont  aux  Dames.  Henriette  pleaded  her  claim  as  my 
servant,  while  the  excellent  Genevieve  timidly  urged  her 
early  friendship. 

(<  Let  chance  decide  it,*  cried  I.  They  drew  lots,  and 
Genevieve  was  selected. 

We  reached  Pont  aux  Dames  in  the  middle  of  the 
night;  it  was  a  miserable  looking  place,  which  took  its 
date  from  the  time  of  Saint  Louis  or  Charlemagne  for 
ought  I  know.  What  a  contrast  met  my  eyes  between 
this  ruinous  old  building,  its  bare  walls,  wooden  seats, 
and  gloomy  casements,  and  the  splendor  of  Versailles  or 
Choisy ;  all  my  firmness  forsook  me,  I  threw  myself  weep- 
ing into  the  arms  of  Genevieve. 

A  courier  had  announced  my  intended  arrival,  and  I 
found  all  the  good  sisters  impatient  to  see  me.  What 
eager  curiosity  did  the  pious  nuns  evince  to  behold  one 
of  whom  they  had  heard  so  much  even  in  their  quiet 
retreat,  and  how  many  questions  had  I  to  reply  to  from 
those  who  had  the  courage  to  address  me.  Alas!  I,  of 
all  the  throng  assembled,  was  the  most  anxious  for  quiet 
and  solitude. 

I  was  lodged  in  the  best  apartments,  which,  however 
magnificent  the  good  people  of  Pont  aux  Dames  might 
consider  them,  were  not  on  a  par  with  the  granaries  of 
Lucienne.  But  complaint  was  useless,  and  I  could  only 
resign  myself  to  what  was  offered  me. 


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